Page 11 of Reaper

He reached out, his hand brushing hers lightly, the contact sending a jolt up her arm.“You don’t have to figure it out tonight.”

She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. His touch was gentle, careful, as if he knew she was one wrong move away from bolting.

“Come on,” he said, his voice a low rumble.“Let’s get some air.”

She let him lead her outside, the cool night breeze washing over her. They stood side by side, the silence stretching between them, filled with unspoken words and shared understanding.

For the first time in a long time, Savannah didn’t feel the urge to run. Reaper’s presence grounded her, made her feel like maybe she could stop looking over her shoulder, even if just for a moment.

“Let’s go for a ride,” he told her.

“Okay,” she whispered, feeling bold all of a sudden. She followed Reaper to where his ride war parked.

Savannah hesitated for only a second before swinging her leg over Reaper’s bike and settling in behind him. The leather of the seat was cool against her thighs. However, the heat radiating off Reaper’s broad back was enough to send warmth searing through her. She slid her arms around his waist, curled her fingers into the thick leather of his cut, feeling the solid strength beneath.

“You good?” Reaper’s voice was low and rough.

“Yeah,” she murmured, though the thudding of her heart gave away her uncertainty.

She wasn’t used to being this close to anyone, especially not someone who made her feel so … alive.

He twisted the key, and the engine roared to life, the deep, throaty rumble vibrating through her body. The sound should have unsettled her, but instead it grounded her.

The world narrowed down to the heat of his body, the grip of her hands around his waist, and the promise of the open road ahead.

“Hold on tight,” he said, casting a glance over his shoulder, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

Before she could respond, he twisted the throttle and the bike shot forward, pulling a sharp gasp from her lips. Savannah tightened her grip instinctively, pressing her chest against his back as they roared out of the clubhouse lot and onto the main road.

At first, Savannah’s muscles were stiff, tension winding through her like a coiled spring. The wind whipped past them, tugging at her hair and clothes. Each turn, each bump in the road, made her pulse spike. But as the miles rolled beneath the tires, the tension ebbed away, replaced by something she hadn’t felt in far too long: exhilaration.

She leaned into him, her body moving in sync with his as he navigated the curves and stretches of Steelhaven’s roads. The heat of his back seeped into her front, the scent of leather, motor oil, and something unmistakably Reaper filling her lungs. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself trust him, letting herself feel.

They left the main town behind, Reaper guiding the bike onto the less-traveled back roads. The air grew cooler, scented with pine and damp earth, the faint glow of twilight casting everything in hues of indigo and silver. The hum of streetlights gave way to the soft brilliance of the stars, glinting like diamonds scattered across black velvet.

Savannah’s heart lifted. This was freedom. This was what she’d been chasing for so long, and yet she hadn’t realized it until now. She loosened her arms slightly and let her head tilt back to drink in the sky. For the first time in months, the knot in her chest unraveled. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t hiding. She was simply here, and it felt damn good.

Reaper must have sensed her shift because his hand dropped briefly to rest on her thigh, a steadying squeeze before returning to the handlebars. The gesture was simple, wordless—but it sent warmth curling low in her belly. She wanted more of that touch, more of him.

All too soon, they were heading back, the lights of the clubhouse coming into view. Reaper slowed the bike, easing them into the lot with a smoothness that made her feel like they were gliding.

He killed the engine, and the sudden silence pressed around them, broken only by the ticking of the cooling engine and the distant hum of music from inside.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The night air wrapped around them, cool and quiet.

Her arms were still around his waist, her cheek pressed to his back. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath the layers of leather and cotton.

Finally, she let go and slid off the bike, her legs slightly unsteady beneath her. Reaper followed, dismounting with the kind of grace that didn’t seem possible for a man his size. He turned to face her, his dark eyes studying her intently.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said softly, brushing her hair back. Her fingers trembled just a little, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Anytime,” he rumbled, his voice low and rough. He reached out, grazing her cheek with his knuckles in a featherlight touch. “You looked like you needed it.”

Her breath caught. He was right—she had needed it. But not just the ride. She needed this. The quiet understanding. The heat simmering between them. The way he looked at her like he saw the whole mess of who she was and didn’t mind one bit.

Her heart hammered in her chest. For once, she didn’t overthink it. She didn’t second-guess herself. She just stepped closer, rising onto her toes, and pressed her lips to his. It was meant to be a simple kiss—a thank you, a brief brush of lips. But the second she felt his mouth against hers, the world tilted.

Reaper slid one hand around her waist, the other threading into her hair. He groaned softly, and the sound sent a molten rush through her veins. He parted his lips, and she followed his lead, opening herself to him.

---