Chapter 20
SUNDAY
Ihate how I’m feeling right now. That was the best sex of my life, and I hope it meant something to Razor too. Surely, he felt something.
He is a closed book that may as well be in a foreign language because I doubt I’ll ever be able to read him.
It’s obvious this is just a fuck to him and yet Annabelle told me he didn’t indulge in the whores very often.
Is that what I am to him? A newer whore that he is keen to tick off his list.
I really believed it was more than that.
Tears burn inside me, but I won’t let them fall. No matter what I hoped for, he has never promised me anything else.
My heart is crushed, my integrity damaged, and yet I would do it all over again if he asked.
I can’t help wanting him, no matter how he thinks of me, what others will and I must learn to live with that.
I am his whore, it’s obvious, and yet the idea of swapping him for another Reaper leaves me cold.
I can’t pick and choose at random. I only want to be with Razor, but he obviously doesn’t want the same, and it hurts like hell.
I’m surprised when his giant hand finds mine and his fingers curl around it in a sweet gesture that I wasn’t expecting.
He squeezes them almost gently and whispers, “I’m happy you’re here, darlin’ and even happier you took a chance on me.”
“A chance?”
I lie rigid, waiting for something I doubt will happen. An insight into what he’s thinking.
“You could have smiled at any of my brothers and taken your pick. I appreciate that it was me.”
“I saw no one else.”
He tugs me closer, his grip almost possessive, and as he turns to face me, his eyes gleam. I shiver when his finger trails down my face, his expression wistful, almost as if there’s a chink in his armor and the sunlight got in.
His gaze is heavy, loaded with passion, and I can’t help myself and lean closer, my lips touching his.
He cups my face, the pressure of his hand comforting, and he kisses me as if I’m his one true love—if only I was.
For some reason, my heart breaks for him, and I don’t know why. At this moment he appears a little lost, and I can relate to that.
His lips are soft, gentle and nurturing, and I close my eyes as I let him take me away from the problems in my life. The biggest one being him, as it happens, because now that I’ve experienced life with him, mine will never be the same again.
* * *
One kiss turns to three, then ten, and once again, I slide into oblivion with the gentle giant I am infatuated with. He feels like home, and I wonder why. Familiar, comforting, and as if I’ve found the half of me that has been missing my entire life.
This time it’s slow, almost caring, and he treats me as if I would break at any moment.
Worshipping every inch of my skin, his kisses addictive, his touch explosive.
Time is irrelevant as we touch, kiss, bite and lick our way through the afternoon, an easy ask as it happens because where it concerns him, I am never satisfied.
Finally, we admit defeat, and as I curl up on his couch, he prepares us some food. The naked chef – my favorite kind.
As he works, I admire the view because Razor is the fittest guy I have ever met.
His muscles ripple as he works, almost as if they are a different entity entirely, and his cock hangs long and thick as he whips us an omelet.
I am delirious with lust for this man, and I wonder if he will ever open his soul to me.
To allow me a glimpse into his past and what has made him so secretive about it.
I don’t miss how he changes the subject every time I broach it, so I change direction and say casually.
“Tell me about Blade. Do you get on, or do you fight like bears?”
“Both.”
His sudden grin speaks more than his words, and his gruff voice raises a smile on my face.
“We have never been apart. Probably never will either, and it’s something I can’t explain other than we have shared every second of our life so far.”
“You are very alike. Who do you resemble, your mom or your dad?”
It’s an innocent enough question, but one I regret immediately because his gaze darkens and he shakes his head.
“Don’t ask me about my family, darlin’. It’s never gonna happen.”
The sudden pain that flits through his expression hurts me way more than it should.
I change the subject fast.
“So, how come you can cook?”
“Military training.” He shrugs. “When you’re in the field with no chef to prepare your meals, you get creative.”
“Can I ask about that?”
I’m beginning to wonder if there is any subject on limits, and he shrugs.
“Nothing much different to any of the Reapers out there. We joined up, excelled at our craft, and got drafted into special ops and sent out on covert missions.”
“How did you end up here?”
I’m curious but not really expecting an answer, and he surprises me by saying, “The commanding officer helped out when I got into trouble with his boss. His son was raping a woman in a side alley, and I was more forceful than I should be. She backed up his story that it was nothing, and I was down to be court martialed. It was only when our captain came forward and backed up my story that the charges were dropped. Apparently, he saw what happened from across the street.”
“And you believed him?”
I cock my head to one side, and he stops, the pan in mid-air as our eyes clash.
“I do.”
I shrug. “Then it’s a good thing he was there. But why here? How did that come about?”
He serves up the omelet onto two plates and I must admit my mouth is watering.
“The captain is a good friend of Ryder King, our president. He knew my life would now be hell in the military, and Ryder could use another soldier. As it turned out, he got two for the price of one because where I go, Blade comes too.”
He carries the plates to me, and as we sit side by side on the couch, both of us naked and eating food he prepared, I have never been as happy as I am now.