Chapter Twelve
I opened my mouth, but thanks to the terror clogging my throat, not a single sound escaped. My last run-in with reapers hadn’t been friendly, and I’d had backup that time. I seriously doubted I’d survive an encounter on my own.
From the bits of conversation I’d overheard between the guys, they seemed to think reapers were arrogant, but not evil. Personally, I found that hard to believe after the events of the day before.
However, according to Evander, the reaper who attacked us had been the exception, not the rule. Still, the odds seemed really high that this reaper was one of the two we’d met in the tunnel.
It made little sense, though. Because if he was one of the pair who fought us, surely I’d already be dead… well, dead er .
The reaper moved toward me with the silent elegance of a jaguar stalking its prey. I stumbled to the side, desperate to put space between us, but he matched my every move. Finally, he reached out and caught both my hands in one of his and twirled me. If anyone had been in the room, they probably would’ve thought I was dancing with him, rather than trying to escape.
Our impromptu dance ended when my back came up against something solid. Taking another step forward, his hard body crushed me against the unforgiving wall.
He kept my hands in his, pinning them above my head. The position forced me to lift myself on tip-toe so I wouldn’t feel like I was dangling, but our height difference meant my head was still only level with the center of his abs.
“Tell me, naughty girl, how did you get here?” Rather than the threat I’d expected, his words were like a reassuring purr.
Despite my fear, my insides quivered in delight. Maybe this was how they lured their prey. It was the only excuse I could find for why I didn’t want to fight against his hold, and why my body was practically melting against him.
What if, just like a mermaid, they had a reaper’s song? That didn’t flow off the tongue the same way a siren’s song did. Reaper’s Rap? Reaper’s Rock? Reaper’s Rhapsody?
The reaper grasped my chin with his free hand, yanking me out of the anxiety-driven chaos of my mind. Ignoring the way heat spread through me from his touch, I narrowed my eyes and waited to see what he would do next.
He slowly turned my face from side to side—almost as though he were inspecting me. His grip on my jaw was rough, but not enough to hurt me. Tilting my head back, he forced me to look up at him.
The reaper wore his straight, black hair loose so that it fell around his face and brushed his shoulders. Each time he moved, the light would glint off the silky strands, revealing hints of violet. It was breathtaking and reminded me of a raven’s iridescent black feathers.
My fingers twitched with the desire to run them through his hair, but it was a desire that quickly faded as he spoke again in that same silken purr.
“Answer me. You don’t want to make me angry.”
I don’t want to see him angry?
“Listen here, Sir Douchington. You really don’t want to see me upset,” I growled, conjuring up every bit of emotional turmoil I’d been trying to lock away. “I’ve had a rollercoaster of a day and I’ve exceeded the limit on what I can handle in a single twenty-four-hour period.”
The reaper arched an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
My irritation rose another notch. “I swear, if you laugh, I’ll poltergeist your arse so hard they’ll think you need an exorcist.”
He carefully schooled his face to hide the signs of amusement. Still, he looked more intrigued than angry. “Is that so? Why don’t you tell me about it? I’m a good listener.”
I responded with an unladylike snort. “I doubt that.”
But it seemed he was serious. Lowering my hands, he took several steps back, pulling me with him until he sat down on a velvet upholstered chair.
I dug in my heels, determined to defy him if for no other reason than I was terrified of how badly I longed to throw myself into his arms. My efforts were futile and, with embarrassing ease, he settled me onto one of his thick, muscled thighs.
It reminded me of seeing adult women sitting on the lap of the local mall Santa… only this Santa dressed in all black. And instead of a red shirt that stretched over a jolly round belly, his black shirt clung to a wide chest and flat abs. The traditional white beard had been swapped for several days’ worth of dark stubble along his jaw that shifted his looks from an underwear model to a menacing warlord who killed anyone who dared to cross him.
Maybe I should tell the sexy gothic Santa that I’d been a good girl, and I deserve a reward. Or would I be a good ghoul ?
The stupid pun, combined with the absurdity of the situation, broke me. I dissolved into the slightly hysterical laughter that could only come from overwhelm, stress, and anxiety. Without warning, my boring world had been turned upside down, and if I didn’t laugh, I was going to break down.
The reaper leaned back, watching me with open curiosity. “Please share what you find so amusing about this situation.”
As he spoke, he inspected my hands, turning them over to check my palms and each finger, and holding his up to compare the size. It was as though he’d never seen female hands before. Weirdo.
I wanted to be disgusted by his skin touching mine, but I wasn’t. It was as reassuring and familiar as the collectors’ touch… It felt right.
After reading countless romances where I’d fallen for the bad boy, was it any surprise I’d be attracted to the first one I met? This was a passing infatuation.
My mind drifted back to what Evander had said about bonds and fate. Was it possible I shared some type of connection with this reaper? It would explain the strange pull in my chest when he’d been at the library, and the way my body submitted to his touch without question. I stifled a snort. Not just submitting; every fiber of my being craved him.
I needed serious help.
Fate must have loved screwing with my life. Or maybe I was being used as a test subject for future ghost upgrades? I could see it now?—
“Reapr, the dating app for the undead and unwed. Scythe left for those you don’t take a Shining to, and right for those who might get The Ring.”
At least there was one upside to the crazy attraction I felt toward this man. He might’ve been in the tunnel, but he wasn’t the reaper who sliced open Rhodes’ chest. Because the only connection I’d felt with that one was when I’d been clinging to him with my teeth buried in his arm.
“Tell me what you found amusing.”
Dang. He would not let it go.
Warm fingers teased across my collarbone as the reaper moved the neck of my oversized white shirt this way and that. What was he looking for? If he’d been a vampire, I’d have guessed he was looking for the best place to bite me.
With a sigh, I caved and blurted out the truth. “It’s just that you kinda look like a younger, sexy, gothic Santa. And I look like I’m about to tell you I’ve been a good ghoul and deserve a reward.”
The ghoul pun got me again, and like an idiot, I snickered over my own joke.
“I see.” His gorgeous mouth curved into a wicked smile and his hand slid up my thighs and beneath the hem of the T-shirt that barely came to mid-thigh on me.
It was the first time I’d seen him smile, and I was stunned at how it transformed him from dangerous to heartthrob. Logic blared a warning that I was in danger and should run, but the lust stirred by his skin against mine held me in place.
An intoxicating cocktail of horror and excitement swirled inside me as I remembered I hadn’t stopped to grab my thong before leaving the guys’ house. If I focused, I could change my clothing into something less revealing, but that would use energy I wasn’t sure I should waste while literally sitting on Death’s lap.
Yeah, I need to save my energy to attempt an escape, I told myself, because there was no way I was getting turned on by this situation.
The reaper’s palm trailed over my hip, thumb brushing across my belly. His hand froze as he realized I was naked beneath the shirt. He sucked in a harsh breath, sending a thrill racing down my spine.
Okay, fine. I might be deceased, but I wasn’t delusional. There was definitely something wrong with me if I was getting aroused by the enemy. I didn’t get time to dwell on it.
Moving faster than I could process, he lifted me from his leg and sat me so that I straddled his lap, facing him. He grinned down at me like the cat that had caught the canary.
“Since you’ve been such a good girl, how about you tell me what you want?” He templed his fingers together and pressed them to his lips, waiting for my answer.
With an effort that should have earned me an Olympic gold medal, I focused hard on all the reasons I could not allow myself to be attracted to him.
Closing my eyes, I whispered the one question that was burning a hole through my brain. “I want to know if you were in the tunnels last night.”
“Yes.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent, his purple eyes studying me.
Anger boiled in my belly. About freaking time! Fury was exactly the distraction I needed.
“Why did you attack us? We did nothing to you!” The lightbulbs in the ornate wall sconces flickered, humming loudly as my temper burned hotter. “You almost killed us!”
His expression didn’t change. “I saved you and those men.”
How could he be so calm and self-assured?
“Are you serious right now?” Lifting myself up onto my knees so that we were almost eye level, I glared at him, wanting him to see my mounting fury. “How do you think you saved us? By throwing Lochlan and Evander through a freaking brick wall?”
The reaper’s hands moved to my hips, holding me still as he leaned in. His rough jaw brushed against mine as he whispered in my ear. “It’s all about perspective, pet.”
“I’m-I’m not your pet,” I responded, hoping he hadn’t heard the quiver in my voice. “And I don’t need perspective! I was there! I saw with my own eyes what happened.”
“Since you aren’t leaving here until I’m ready to let you go, I think ‘pet’ works.” His knuckles brushed against my cheekbone. “You’re such a stubborn little thing. There is always more than one perspective.”
The reaper’s lips brushed against my mouth, and I fought to swallow the whimper that rose unbidden up my throat. How could this stranger hold such power over me?
“Consider the situation we are in now. From my perspective, it appears you must have used some type of magic to track me. Then you teleported into my private chambers smelling of sex and dressed in a way meant to seduce me. The only logical reason for you to do this is because you plan to murder me the moment I let down my guard.”
I reeled back as though he’d struck me. “You can’t be serious! I didn’t want to come here… I don’t even know where here is! And you need to get over yourself, because I certainly didn’t come to seduce you. Besides, you aren’t my type!”
“Don’t lie to me, pet.” The reaper’s hand traveled down my ribs. “There is a wet spot on my slacks that tells another story.”
He took his time, exploring every inch of my body that he touched. What game was he playing?
I snuck a furtive peek down, and an instant later, the lights in the room flickered as horror rushed through me. He hadn’t lied. There was a slightly dark spot on his slacks where he’d sat me on his thigh. Despite my humiliation, I refused to admit he had any effect on me.
Lifting my chin, I shrugged carelessly. “You said I was a pet. I guess I haven’t been housebroken yet. That still doesn’t mean I want you.”
His purple eyes glowed a brilliant violet. “What have I told you about lying to me?”
Refusing to back down, I met his gaze and lied through my teeth. “I’m not lying.”
He was motionless for several long seconds before nodding and leaning back in his seat. “I do enjoy a good game. What do I get if I prove you’re lying?”
“What do you want?” I asked, more than a little curious about what I might have that he would want as a prize.
I owned nothing of value except two special edition hardcovers of my favorite shifter romances that I’d rescued from my house, and not even a grim reaper himself could pry them from my cold dead hands.
“You’ll spend the night with me. In my bed.” His fingers brushed lazily up and down my bare thigh, making it difficult to focus.
I narrowed my eyes. “And you’ll let me walk away, the same amount of dead as I am now, at sunrise?”
He nodded. “You have my word that no harm will come to you.”
“And what do I get when I win?” I pushed.
Sitting up, he ran his fingers through my hair and pulled me so close that our mouths nearly touched. “Whatever you want.”
Hmm. I could use that to get more information about what was happening and why they’d been in the tunnels. Or maybe I could ask for protection for the guys.
“Alright, deal,” I breathed, fighting the urge to lean forward a fraction so that I could feel his lips brush mine.
Leaning back, I stuck out my hand. Instead of shaking it, he caught my hand and placed a soft kiss on the back. My insides quivered, and I could feel my odds of winning plummet with that one suave move. This was going to be far harder than I thought.
The devilish smile that stretched across his face should’ve been the wake-up call I needed to realize the smartest plan was to abort my mission, stop playing with fire, and run. But my one good trait was that I never gave up. It was also my worst trait because it meant I was stubborn and never backed down from a challenge.
If I was being honest, I’d expected him to make an attempt at seducing me. I thought I would win by not caving into the desire that was building inside me. I just needed to practice self-control and think about chicken butts, anal glands, and garbage dumps.
Come on, how hard could it be to not jump his bones?
It turns out it was harder than finding a heartbeat in a graveyard.
The reaper stood, plopping me down in the seat he’d just vacated. He walked toward the weapon-covered wall, unbuttoning his black dress shirt as he moved. Slipping it off, he revealed a sleek body that was toned to perfection.
He tossed the shirt on a side table and reached for the scythe hanging on the wall. I was ashamed to admit I might have drooled a little as I watched his back muscles flex and ripple as he lifted it from the wall.
The reaper spoke in a language I didn’t recognize, and the lights dimmed. He gave another command and music flowed from hidden speakers in the room—the kind of music with a bass line perfect for doing things that went bump in the night.
Unable to look away, I watched in fascination as his body moved in perfect rhythm, grinding his way down the handle of his scythe as if it were a pole. When he reached the floor, he gripped the handle with one hand and put the other behind himself on the wooden floor to support himself as he continued to move his hips in time with the beat.
I squirmed on the velvet cushion as raw lust tied my insides together and made it impossible to sit still. But the show had just begun.
The music shifted, and he smoothly laid the gleaming scythe on the ground, rolling easily into a position over it. When he began to undulate and rock his hips while executing perfect pushups, my mouth went dry as my body sent a wave of slick heat rushing between my thighs.
If he kept this up, the scythe was going to end up pregnant.
And why am I feeling jealous over an inanimate object?
As if sensing my thoughts—or worse, smelling my lust—the purple-eyed reaper turned his attention to me. Rising to his feet in the type of fluid movement typically associated with felines, he made his way toward me. I jumped at the sharp crack from his belt as he removed it with a single flick of his wrist.
He continued to take his time, his movements unhurried, as though he could do this for hours. Unfortunately, I couldn’t if I wanted to win this bet. My resolve was crumbling faster than a granola bar—and not the chewy kind; the ones that would nearly shatter your teeth when you bit into them and somehow you always end up wearing more of them than you got in your mouth.
In the blink of an eye, he had my wrists wrapped in the soft leather of his belt and was sliding them up his bare chest as he slowly pulled me from the chair. Electrical pulses shot through me as my skin brushed against his, and the lights in the room hummed loudly.
The desire I’d felt for him from the moment we locked eyes in the library had turned into a hungry thing that paced inside me. I needed to admit defeat and stop this madness before I did something stupid. He was a complication my life didn’t need.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, my heart spasmed in pain. Why did it seem like I belonged with him? Belonged to him?
The reaper lifted me so that I stood on top of his bare feet. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he danced around the room, letting me feel the play of his muscles against me with every move he made. It was sexy and ridiculously romantic… and I loved every minute of it.
When at last he guided me to another chair, I was nearly panting and trying my best to hide it. If this ended now, I still had a chance at winning…
A new song filled the room, this one feeling somehow naughtier than the others. As though he’d known and had timed it, the reaper straddled my chair. Grabbing the back of the chair, his body flowed and undulated to the erotic music. He still wore his black slacks, but there was no hiding the size of the bulge when he was this close to me. Looking up at him, I saw the same hunger I felt reflected back at me in the depths of his eyes.
This was quite possibly the worst decision I’d made in my entire life. So why did it feel so beautifully right? Why did it feel wrong to deny the feelings that continued to grow inside me?
Of all the dirty tactics I thought he might use to win the bet, this hadn’t been on my list.
He’d barely touched me… and he’d won.
I’d gotten a lap dance from Death and lost.
But after seeing the way his hips moved against his scythe, I wasn’t even mad about it. Maybe I was willing to be screwed by death again… I had a suspicion it would be a lot more fun this time.