Page 12 of Reaper

The kiss deepened, slow and searing. His mouth was hot, his tongue teasing hers in a rhythm that made her knees weak. He tasted like whiskey and smoke and something distinctly him.

She melted into him, pressing her body against the hard planes of his, needing to be closer, needing more. He pulled her tighter. Reaper dug his fingers into her hips just enough to make her gasp. The sound seemed to snap something in him.

The kiss turned hungrier, fiercer, he grazed his teeth against her lower lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. She whimpered into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Heat coiled in her belly, a raw, desperate ache she hadn’t felt in years. He kissed her like he was claiming her, like he’d been starving for her and finally got a taste. And damn, she was starving for him too.

After what felt like forever, they broke apart, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips tingling. Reaper’s eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, smoldering with a desire that made her shiver.

“Savannah…” he rasped, his voice rough. Her name on his lips felt like a prayer and a curse all at once.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to step back just enough to think straight. “Thanks for the ride,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.

He nodded, his jaw tight. “Anytime.”

She turned and walked to her own bike, feeling his eyes on her the whole way. Her heart was still pounding, her body still humming with the taste of him, the feel of his hands on her.

She didn’t know what the hell she was doing. But for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care.

Chapter Six

Reaper rolled into the parking lot behind the diner, the low growl of his bike cutting off as he killed the engine. For a moment, he just sat there, gloved hands gripping the handlebars.

The sun beat down on the cracked asphalt, heat waves shimmering like a mirage in the distance. His gaze drifted to the back door of the diner, where Savannah would slip out on her break, ready to light up his whole damn world with a smile she probably didn’t even know she had.

What the hell am I doing?This wasn’t his style. He didn’t wait around for women. He didn’t plan surprise lunches or debate the finer points of grilled cheese sandwiches. And he sure as hell didn’t get butterflies—Jesus, butterflies—waiting to see if she’d be happy to see him. But here he was, parked behind a diner, second-guessing himself like some lovesick teenager.

It had been ten years since he’d“dated.” The last time, he’d fallen hard and fast for Pat, the woman who eventually became his wife. Her laugh, her fire, the way she never took any of his brooding bullshit—he’d thought that was it. Forever.

And even when forever turned into a deathbed promise, he’d told her there would be no one else. She’d smiled weakly, eyes bright with unshed tears and whispered that he shouldn’t shut himself off. That he deserved more love, more life.

He’d shaken his head, gripping her hand as if that could keep her there.“There’s no one else for me, Pat.”

He’d meant it. Until Savannah came roaring into his life, all sharp edges and hidden pain, like a spark he didn’t know he needed.

She was too young, too wild, too ... everything. But the way his heart clenched whenever he saw her told him he was fighting a losing battle.

Reaper took a deep breath, let it out slowly.“Screw it,” he muttered.

He wasn’t the type to play games. Life was too short for that kind of nonsense. He swung his leg over the bike, boots hitting the pavement with a solid thud, and headed for the diner’s back entrance.

The bell above the door jingled as he walked in. The smell of grease, coffee, and something vaguely sweet filled the air.

Samantha spotted him instantly, her eyes lighting up with recognition. She wiped her hands on her apron and grabbed a menu, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Hey, Reaper. Need a table?”

He shook his head.“Nah. Just here to see Savannah.”

Samantha’s smile faltered, a flicker of apology crossing her face.“She’s not here today.”

A chill settled in his gut.“Not here?”

She shook her head.“She’s feeling under the weather. Called in sick this morning.”

Reaper forced his face to remain neutral, but disappointment twisted through him like barbed wire. He should’ve known this was a bad idea. Maybe he was pushing too hard, wanting too much. He glanced at the floor, jaw tight.

Samantha must’ve seen the flicker of dejection he tried to hide because her eyes softened. She leaned closer, dropping her voice.

“Listen, she asked me to swing by the pharmacy after my shift to grab her some cold meds. But maybe you’d like to do that instead?”

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