Page 170 of Reaper's Claim

“Don’t call me sweet.” He wrinkled his nose up at it, and I laughed, following him to the van.

I was wrong. I didn’t need to know if I could love every side of him. I already did.

Chapter 69

Abby

We all make mistakes we can’t come back from. There was an unspoken rule that bound each man to the club. Some would call it a duty. I would call it blind faith in something that was only ever going to offer them a short life and a bloody death.

Still.

I understood it.

Could understand it.

Till today.

Today my faith in this club and what it really stood for was shaken.

Earlier in the day

I rolled over in Reaper’s arms, feeling safe and at home. There was nothing like waking up in his arms every morning. His strong, tattooed arms that held me out of love and protection. I lifted my head from his chest and glanced at his sleeping face.

It was like he was a part of me and without him, something was missing. My stomach couldn’t settle; my blood pumped with nerves. Only in his arms did I feel safe and this feeling left.

He breathed heavy but remained sleeping. I traced a finger down his tattooed chest. The ink only helped define each strong muscle.

If I had to describe Reaper in one word, it would be strong.

Nothing shook him, scared him.

I hooked a leg over him and slowly pulled myself out of his arms and straddled him.

His eyes slowly opened. “Now I could wake up to that every morning.” He smirked.

I grinned foolishly down at him, wearing only one of his overly large tee shirts.

“I missed you.” I leaned down and quickly kissed his lips.

“I’ve been sleeping beside you all night.” He arched his eyebrows at me as if I was mad.

“Like I said, I missed you.” Our hands interlocked, and his arms flexed as he took my weight, and I leaned down to kiss him.

“You’re a strange woman at times, Abby.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“True.” He kissed my forehead.

At this moment, everything was perfect. He, I, we were perfect. Happy and content. I didn’t want to face the day. I didn’t want to leave this bed.

Just as I thought it, his phone buzzed on the bedside table.

“Don’t get it.” I pleaded, not wanting our moment to be over just yet.

He cocked his head to the side. “Could be important, babe.”

“Could also ruin our morning.”

---