Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Ivy
The sun shines brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I blink against the brightness, coming awake I realize I fell asleep in my moon pod bean bag. This isn’t the first time I’ve done it. I actually pass out in it quite often.
A shadow falls over me, and I furrow my brows, turning my head and look up to find Reaper glaring down at me with his hands planted on his hips.
I don’t bother screaming or anything like that. I’m sure he already knows he’s scared the daylights out of me by being here when I wake up.
Ugh, it’s Saturday. I should be getting up and going to my room, then passing back out and sleeping until noon.
“Do you break into homes often?” I mutter. “I do have a doorbell. In fact, what are you doing inside my house to begin with? Here to yell at me some more?” The words spill from my mouth before I can stop myself. This is what I get for having someone around me before having coffee in my system.
Damnit all to hell.
Reaper curls a lip up, and his eyes narrow even further.
Screw it. I need coffee if I have to handle him. Throwing the blanket from my body, I’m all too aware of the fact I’m barely dressed in anything. Last night after Sutton had left to go home, I took my pants off, reached underneath my shirt, unhooked my bra, and removed it.
I stand, not caring that I’m in nothing but my tank top and polka dot cheeky panties. I walk past him. I swear he sucks in a harsh breath.
Go ahead and get a good look, you big fat jerk.
I walk into the kitchen and stalk right to the coffee pot that’s already prepped and ready to brew.
All I need to do is hit the button. To say I’m not a morning person is an understatement.
My dad used to say I’m a coffee monster who needs the coffee in my system to be able to function without hurting anyone.
I have to admit to myself, I’m highly irritable without it and have been known to snap.
I feel Reaper enter the room. I don’t know how to explain it.
It’s like his aura consumes every room he enters.
His presence could consume the room in two different directions, one being dangerous to the point I fear for my life or the other being dangerous because the sight of him makes me want to jump on him and ride him until I can’t ride anymore.
My stomach tightens, and it’s all I can do to keep from squeezing my legs together. I need to get him out of here. He’s driving me nuts.
“You going to ignore me?” Reaper barks vehemently.
“I figure if I pretend you don’t exist, make my coffee and go about my morning now that I’m awake way too freakin’ early for a Saturday morning, I might add, then yes. I’m ignoring you. Feel free to not let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.” Okay, so I’m a bitch in the morning.
“I don’t like being ignored, Precious,” Reaper announces. I hear him take a step even closer in my direction.
“Too bad for you. I don’t talk to anyone until I get my coffee. I suggest you leave.”
“What do you intend to learn by working at the garage? I looked at the file we ran on you—it just so happens your daddy’s a cop.
Now I know there is no way in hell a fuckin’ cop’s daughter would be working in an MC establishment without attempting to gain some sort of information,” he sneers, changing the subject altogether.
He did not just say that.
Please tell me he didn’t just say that.
Whirling around on him, I close the distance between the two of us, not that there’s much of it. I lift my hand and slap him across the face with enough force to make Reaper turn his head. That or he is surprised by my action. “Get out,” I snap, rage nearly vibrating within my entire being.
Reaper’s eyes come ablaze with fire when his eyes come back to meet my glare. I should probably take a step back or something. I don’t know, but I also don’t care. He had no right to say that.
Something is slammed on the counter next to me, and the next thing I know, Reaper’s arms are holding me tightly against his chest. “Don’t fuckin’ test me, Ivy,” he growls, directly in my face.
“Don’t test you? Oh, please, don’t test me, Reaper. Now get out before I hurt you,” I threaten, knowing damn well I wouldn’t be able to do anything to him.
“Hurt me? Precious, you couldn’t hurt me even if you tried,” he grins maliciously.
“I could if I need or want to,” I protest.
“Yea, go ahead and try. I promise you, I’ll have you over my knee with that sexy ass of yours bare and ready for my hand.” Nope, don’t think of what he just put in your head. No way, don’t do it.
“Go to Hell,” I snip.
“Precious, I’m the fuckin’ Reaper for a reason.
I’ve been living in Hell my whole life,” he chuckles.
“Now tell me why you’re working at the garage,” Reaper demands, moving me around until he has me cornered against the counter.
His hands now caging me in on either side.
My hands involuntarily press into his chest.
“I’m not telling you shit. If you read whatever report you have on me, then you would already know the answer to your own question. Now go away,” I say, raising my voice.
“Ivy,” Reaper growls, one of his hands sliding up my side, over the side of my breast, and cupping the back of my head. His fingers threading into my hair that’s in a knot on top of my head.
Reaper’s eyes seem to take on a completely different heat right before his hand tightens in my hair. His mouth slams down on mine, capturing my mouth in a demanding, forceful action. I have no choice but to respond to with the same reaction.
I swear I’m fucked when it comes to Reaper. Seven ways to Sunday, that’s for sure.