Page 21 of Reaper's Hunt

He lets out a little groan, still stroking us until he hisses, shampoo stinging his eyes.Fuck. I lean him back to rinse it out under the water, “Sorry,” I mutter, smoothing water over his face to finally reveal the handsome crazy beneath.

“It’s okay,” he teases. “You can apologize when I fuck you later.”

Malik

Thescentofcedarbody wash clings to my skin, loose linens hanging off my frame as I sit in the driver’s seat of Dante’s truck, twirling a small pocketknife between my fingers. Dante’s inside the precinct, dealing with Harley about the latest Reaper kill, insisting we stop here first before checking on Sparrow.

I’m not sure why we couldn’t have seen Sparrow first.

Just thinking about her has me shifting in my seat, reaching down to stroke my cock through my pants. I fucking need to see her, to see that she’s okay. I also just want her in my sights, want to imagine her covered in blood as I slip inside of her sweet little pussy and hear my name on her tongue. Knowing that Dante has had some part of that doesn’t make me jealous. It just makes me want it that much more.

Dante showed me the text from her an hour ago: a curt,I’m okay, but it’s not enough. Nothing’s enough until I see her, touch her, smell that spiced coconut scent that haunts my dreams.

I spin the knife a bit faster, thinking about little cuts and knicks and where I could put them on her pretty little body. I think about the way she’d scream or the way she’d ask for more. Her moans. Her whispers and needy whines.

I start bouncing my leg, my pulse kicking up as I continue thinking about my sparrow, my mind pulling me in an uncomfortable direction the longer I sit in this parking lot. It feels like a trap, like the cops are gonna swarm any second, drag me in for the shit I’ve done. Never done a legal thing in my life, except maybe medical school, and even then, I cut corners, stole cadavers, fudged exams, fucked my way to passing grades.

Dante said to wait, and for once, I’m trying to listen, trying not to let the chaos in my head spill out. But it’s so fucking hard when all I can think about is her.

A sharp knock on the window snaps me out of it, and I freeze, the knife pausing mid-twirl. It’s Xavier, one of Harley’s old partners, a sleazy fuck with a smirk that makes my blood boil. He used to hover around Sparrow, trying to get her attention, and when she shut him down, he’d spit nasty jokes about her, calling her a tease, a slut, worse. I hate him more than Harley, more than anyone, because he looked at her like she was meat, not a goddess. Rolling down the window, I frown up at him, my grip tightening on the knife. “What do you want, Xavi?”

Xavier leans in, his eyes glinting with malice. “I’m surprised you remember my name,” he says. “Haven’t seen you around lately. Surprised you got let out of your cage. What are you doing here?”

A grin splits across my face as I twirl the knife again. “I’m on a field trip to see my sparrow,” I mention.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he snaps, then shakes his head. “Don’t answer that. I’m guessing you’re here with Dante, which means Harley’s doing some crack police work again.”

Shrugging, I let my gaze drift to the precinct, the knife spinning faster, my patience thinning. I’m about to tune him out but Xavier keeps talking, his grating voice digging under my skin. “You wouldn’t know anything about these murders, would you?”

My eyes snap back to him. “Why, should I?”

He leans closer, his hand resting on the window frame. “Stop the innocent act. We both know you’re fucked in the head.”

“That isn’t something I hide,” I laugh. “Is there something you want to accuse me of, officer?”

Xavier pats the window before pulling back. “I’m just having a friendly conversation.”

“It doesn’t feel friendly,” I growl out, my fingers itching to drive the knife into something. His hand, his face,anything. “Excuse me. I have somewhere to be.”

Opening the door, I swing it hard, nearly clipping Xavier as he stumbles back farther, his eyes flashing with anger. “If I wasn’t sure, I’d think you were trying to hurt me.”

“Just trying to get out of the car, officer.”

Refusing to catch Xavier’s next retort, I slip down the strip of businesses, heading straight for the little boutique. Dante will just have to forgive me. My eyes lock on Selene through the glass as I approach the shop, her silver hair catching the fluorescent lights like a beacon. She’s got that fake customer service smile, showing off some product to a middle-aged woman, her high ponytail swinging, her crop top dipping just low enough to tease, earrings glinting with every turn. It’s a pretty picture but it’s not enough. Hunger claws at my gut, a need for more, for her blood, her screams, her body under mine. Sparrow, my sparrow, the Reaper who paints with death, is a goddess, and I’m starving for her.

The bell jangles as I step inside. I ignore the lady at the front, growling at her chirpy greeting before refocusing on my goddess. She finishes with the customer and then moves toward the back of the boutique, weaving through the shelves. Slipping to the side, I follow at a distance, staying out of sight every time she glances back.

She’s mumbling to herself, words too soft to catch, her fingers trailing over products. Pausing at a display, she picks up a crimson lipstick and leans into a small mirror, swiping it across her lips. The color’s perfect: dark and rich like blood, my cock twitching as I imagine those lips on my chest, my shoulders, wrapped around my dick, leaving smears of red. She turns into another aisle and I move to the lipstick display, eyeing the shades but ultimately focusing on the same one she picked up.

I stare in silence for several seconds before someone approaches me. “Can I help you?”

Nodding, I point to the crimson shade. “Wanted to buy this one.”

“Crimson Taint?” the woman asks, grabbing the tube. “Definitely our best seller. Come on, I’ll ring you up.”

Crimson, just like my favorite color, the shade of my sparrow’s kills, her fire. My fingers close around the lipstick, the purchase a tether to her, but as I head for the counter, her laugh cuts through the air, pulling me back like a leash.

Can’t leave, not yet.

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