Chapter 16
SUNDAY
Ihope this ride is an eternal one because I can’t believe my luck. To say it’s a little awkward in the cold light of day is an understatement.
It’s as if last night is merely a delicious secret between us, and I’m not sure where we go from here.
I didn’t want to cling to him, but I can’t help myself. I’m guessing Razor has been with many women and wouldn’t appreciate me wanting more.
It hurt to leave him with no guarantee of a repeat performance, and when I saw him at breakfast, I couldn’t concentrate on anything.
The other women were talking about their night with a Reaper, but I said nothing.
I’m not prepared for what happened between us to be the subject of gossip over the breakfast table with the self-styled whores.
I don’t judge them; hell, I’m one of them now.
At least that’s how I see myself. I may as well have forced Razor to fuck me last night.
It was all me, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
I wanted him so badly it took all of my concentration, and I don’t regret a minute of the most magical experience of my life.
But I want more.
More nights like that. More of his attention.
His smile, his soft touch, his cock driving more pleasure than a girl can stand. I want more of him, and as luck would have it, destiny smiled on me today because I get him all to myself for as long as the ride takes.
I wish it were eternity.
Men like Razor are like rare exotic species that only happen once, if at all, in a woman’s life. I hate the idea that last night was our only time because how can I move on from that?
It was the single most magical experience of my life. If it’s the only memory I have I will nurture it until I’m an old woman in a nursing home, reliving the most treasured memory on repeat.
Now I understand why Britney referred to one night with a Reaper being worth more than a lifetime with your childhood sweetheart. She meant Creed, but I’m guessing it applies to them all. One night with Razor ruined me for anyone else, and I’m good with that because I will always hold that memory.
Sadly, the town isn’t far, and as he pulls into a parking space, my heart is heavy as I tug off the helmet.
My hair must be a mess and my face flushed from the thrill of the ride, and I smile my thanks, saying shyly, “I appreciate your help.”
He cocks his head to one side.
“What’s your plan?”
“Supplies mainly. I’m running out of a few essentials and fancied a morning in the town; normality if you like.”
“Alone?”
His gaze is intense, and I shift a little.
“I wouldn’t mind some company.”
He nods.
“It would be my pleasure to carry your bags.”
His sudden smile melts my heart and I resist the urge to fling myself into his arms.
God, I’ve missed this man, and it’s only been a few hours since I took my walk of shame.
He points to a store nearby. “You can grab most of what you need in there. There’s a small coffee shop around the back. We can grab one when you’ve finished up.”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
His gaze softens, and reaching out, he unzips the jacket. My breath catches as he leans forward and whispers huskily, “The jacket looks good on you, darlin’.”
Warmth spreads through me as I gaze into his ice-blue eyes, and I nod, smiling softly. “It feels good, darlin’.”
I wink and he rewards me with a hungry gaze, and before I can react to that, he pulls me roughly toward him, and his lips find mine as if they’ve always had that right.
I kiss him back with a hunger I can’t explain and he devours me in the street. His fingers twist in my hair, his hand resting on my thigh, his leg pushed between them.
It’s as if I’ve died and gone to heaven.
I’m in no hurry to finish what he started either. The passers-by may as well be invisible as I make out with Razor in full view of the town.
He pulls away, his voice gruff as he whispers, “Now we shop, then we get coffee and then, darlin’–”
“Yes, Razor.”
My breath hitches as he gazes deep into my eyes and growls, “Then you’re mine for the afternoon.”
I am delirious with lust right now, and I nod slowly, my breathing erratic, desire heavy in my eyes.
He plants a soft kiss on my mouth and whispers, “Don’t take too long.”
As I break away and he follows me into the store, I’m not sure if there’s enough oxygen in here to go around because that was so hot I’m still suffering the effects. I swear I miss half of what I came here for in my hurry to become his for the afternoon.
* * *
It’s a very different experience shopping with a man and definitely a man like Razor. He follows me, rarely speaking or offering an opinion, carrying my basket, just a soft smile when I chat shit to him and decide on my selections.
Then there are the other customers. The way they gaze at him in awe, a few snapping photographs or videos on their phones.
The glances of lust from the women and envy from the men.
It’s as if a celebrity is in town, and it’s a lot to deal with.
Razor is a very striking man, for sure. His wild mountain look appears out of place in suburbia.
Any bears need wrestling in the vicinity? I know a man for that.
He is oblivious. His concentration solely on me, and it’s a powerful aphrodisiac. I’m not even sure if I am buying the right products. He is my sole focus right now.
His leather Reaper jacket is a badge of honor, and he fills it well.
The shade he gives from his huge body is intimidating as fuck.
I have never felt so safe in my life as I am with him, and yet he says nothing, is merely a silent bodyguard, his gaze promising soul-destroying things will happen later in the day.
By the time we reach the cashier, I’m one hot mess, and as she rings up my purchases, Razor steps forward and presents his card.
“Hold on to this one, honey.”
The cashier winks and Razor grins at her, causing her to fan her face with her hands. “Sooo hot in here.”
I roll my eyes at Razor, who grins, and I swear I have never wanted a man so badly before.
We head outside and I whisper in a low voice, “I can pay for my groceries.”
“I didn’t say that, but I’m guessing you hold the same credit card as me with the money coming from the same bank account, so what difference does it make who pays?”
He makes a valid point.
“Then why did you pay?”
“Because you’re a lady and in my world, the gentleman should always pay.”
I have no words, none that would make a difference, anyway.
He is right, but I suppose I pride myself on my independence, and I’m fully aware I’m being subsidized by the Reapers, and that doesn’t really sit well with me.
I want to pay my way, but I was told working in the bar and around the compound earns you unlimited funds, and yet for some reason I want to earn my money fair and square.
“Don’t overthink it, darlin’.”
Razor pushes open the coffee shop door while carrying my bags.
“Overthink what?”
“This life. The money is there for everyone to use. Nobody cares what you do with it.”
“I guess, but it still seems wrong to accept something I haven’t earned.”
“You earn it by being a Reaper, darlin’. Every job in that compound is important, no matter what it is.”
I smile but it’s weak because I’ve always been brought up to believe that money should be earned and doesn’t come easy.
Razor approaches the counter and asks, “What are you having?”
“Coffee, white, oat milk if they have it.”
The server nods, and Razor orders an espresso—of course he does—and while we wait for the drinks, we take a seat by the window.
Even sitting across from this man is a humbling experience, and part of me wonders what the future has in store for us. Could this be my life, with him, or will it be something else? Will I walk away from them one day when this broken angel is considered fixed?