Chapter 18
SUNDAY
The ride back is fast and furious, and I have never experienced exhilaration like it. Razor can definitely ride a motorcycle because despite the speed, I never once felt in danger. On the contrary, I loved every minute, and I could ride behind him for eternity and die happy.
He gives nothing away, though. What he thinks, his past, even his freaking name, and I suppose that’s what appeals to me. He is a closed book that is under lock and key, which only makes him even more interesting.
By the time we return to the Rubicon, my anticipation is boiling over because an afternoon with Razor tops any I had planned.
We park up, and as he heaves the bags from his pannier, I smile my thanks.
He walks with me to the women’s block and, leaning down, whispers, “Don’t take too long. I’ll meet you in my room.”
Fuck!
I am delirious with desire right now, and if my feet had wings, I couldn’t get to my room any quicker.
As I drop my bags on the couch, I take a deep breath because I am so excited about what lies ahead. Last night was the single-handedly best experience of my life, and I wonder if today will stoke the legend or blow it to pieces.
I quickly shower off the ride and, leaving my hair damp, I pull on a yellow summer dress, sliding my feet into a pair of sliders, brushing out my hair and tying it behind me in a pretty yellow ribbon.
It’s hardly the femme fatale vibe, but I guess Razor would prefer the sweet girl next door type, anyway.
As I head outside, I meet Annabelle heading to her room.
“Hey, Sunday. You look nice.”
“Thanks.”
She cocks her head to one side. “Fancy a coffee and a catch-up?”
“I would, but well, I, um, have plans.”
“Plans?”
She raises her eyes. “What plans?”
“Um, well–”
I’m blushing like a virgin right now and she chuckles softly. “Do your plans involve a brute wearing leather with the morals of a devil and the looks of a saint?”
“Busted.”
I can’t help giggling, and she asks, “Who is it?”
“Razor.”
“Fuck me. No way.”
“Why is that surprising?”
I’m curious.
“I’m surprised he asked you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, honey, you are possibly the prettiest girl to walk through those doors in a long while, but Razor, well, he keeps himself closed off.
It’s unusual for him to even speak to the women, let alone demand their attention in the middle of the day.
You must possess superpowers we don’t know about. ”
“He’s very kind. He gave me a ride to town and even carried my shopping. Afterwards, we had coffee, and then he asked if I would spend the afternoon with him.”
“Respect, honey. I give you that because he and his twin are the surliest motherfuckers that go by the name of Reaper.”
She grins. “I bet there’s zero conversation. He probably communicates in other ways, you lucky girl.”
She breaks off and raises her eyes. “Have you?”
My blush tells her before any words fall from my lips.
“No way. I bow down before you. Man, the other Reapers will be pissed. I never saw that one coming.”
She points to the door.
“You should go. I mean, you look so damn cute he’s going to rip that pretty dress off you in record time. You really are one lucky woman, Sunday.”
“Did you ever?–” I don’t finish my sentence because she shakes her head.
“No, not many have. A few, but Razor doesn’t shop in the candy store very often. That’s why this is huge news. Make sure you give me a full report in the morning. Not many had the pleasure of where you’re heading, and I want details and preferably diagrams.”
“Idiot.”
I can’t help giggling despite the subject, and as she waves me off, my heart is pounding as I take the short walk to the Reaper’s block next door.
I swear if I come across one of them I’m liable to bottle it and head back the way I came because this really is too much for a girl fresh from Smallville.
* * *
I edge inside the block, wondering why it’s as if I shouldn’t be here. The block is quiet, almost eerily so and as I walk, my tread is light, my heart fluttering, and my resolve weakening.
A door slams somewhere above me, and I almost run back the way I came. Gripping the handrail, I swallow my nerves and carry on my progress, although slightly faster.
I hear footsteps above me, and I quickly dip into the corridor to the left of the staircase, my footsteps quicker, trying so hard not to breathe right now.
As I reach Razor’s door, the one beside his opens and an identical man heads out, apparently surprised to see me. Bad timing sucks.
“Sunday.”
He nods, his gaze on my hand that is preparing to knock on Razor’s door.
His slow smile causes me to blush, and I falter, “Razor, um, well–”
He holds up his hand.
“There’s no explanation needed. Have a nice day.”
Without another word, he heads off the way I came, and I stifle the hysterical giggle that threatens to disturb the silence.
My knock has the desired effect, and as Razor’s door swings open, his eyes flash as I breathe, “Can I come inside before I meet any more embarrassing situations?”
He steps to the side, amusement on his lips, and as I dive inside his room, I fan myself. “Can you come to me next time?”
He raises his eyes. “Next time?”
Did I read this wrong?
I color up. “Not that I expect, well, a next time, that is–”
His mouth silences my words, and as his hand slides around the back of my head and pulls me in deep, nothing else matters but what happens next.