Page 140 of Resurfaced Passion

Calling her father in a weak moment and Paige was regretting it big time.

He was trying to hook her back in like a fish caught up on the end of a pole and he knew he had her dangling on that hook.

She sighed and went back to fixing her face, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror, which was difficult to do whilst applying eyeshadow.

With bigger, more important things than her father’s deviousness to concentrate on, she had a tentative date/meeting with Reaper soon and her stomach was flipping like salmon.

Dammit, she had to stop making fish analogies.

She was nervous. So freaking nervous.

And excited. God, she’d missed him so much and it’d only been two days.

* * *

“Gonna let me in to see my wife?”

“That all depends.” Smirked Snake, arms folded in his doorway. “Gonna have her home at a reasonable hour?”

He thought he was funny.

Reaper shouldered past him and ignored Snake’s cackling. “And don’t get our girl in any trouble. I got shot guns.”

“Beau, stop teasing him.” Winter’s voice drifted from the kitchen. “Paige is upstairs, Reaper.” She explained, more helpful than her clown husband. “Third door on the right.”

He took the stairs two at a time, eager like a puppy to lay eyes on her. With a game plan in mind once his hangover dissipated, he’d intended to go back to his old ways of being a creeper sitting in the corner of Paige’s diner, intending to wear her down that way until she was ready to talk to him.

He’d forgotten how stubborn his girl was and how she came to things in her own way because he hadn’t even shrugged on his club cut that morning when her text came asking to see him tonight.

Fucks sake, he could have pussy cried like a girl right there in his own living room. The same living room that felt too big now without Paige in it. Wherever he looked he saw some of her stuff, making him chick the fuck out even more.

He hadn’t come this far to lose her now.

Finding her in the bathroom, there was a distinct rattling in his chest as he peered through the door slightly ajar giving him her side view and his heart and dick both woke the fuck up at the same time.

He didn’t wait, he pushed the door open, catching her gasp, color rushed into her face, as he closed the door behind him and approached her slowly while she watched him in the mirror.

She smelled of strawberries was his first thought, quickly followed by how much he wanted to lean in with a kiss to taste her lips. He would guess she’d been eating ice cream by the pint. It was his girl’s go-to comfort food when she was upset. She’d curl up under a blanket, spoon in one hand, Breyers in the other and she’d scoop until the carton was empty, only then would she crawl into his lap and tell him what was wrong.

She was throwing him an olive branch, he recognized, so he didn’t think she’d want to crawl on him, though he would have fucking loved it.

Between that first step into the bathroom and closing the door behind him, Reaper’s brain checked the hell out.

He knew she needed words from him more than anything.

She needed to hear their entire history.

But the moment he was around Paige he became a dirty pig scenting its mate. All he wanted to do was maul her. Love her. Every other thought and good intention fell by the wayside because he wanted her, needed her and his fingers had minds of their own.

Stepping up behind her, he watched her hands clutch tightly on the lip of the sink, her pupils blown to pure black and her chest running wild pushing her tits against flowy summer dress.

Ah, his girl had no clue how unstable he was when he was around her.

How fucking peaceful he felt at the same time.

His dick ached behind the zipper and he inched in closer, let her feel what she did to him at the same time his hands crawled along her hips and began methodically dragging up her skirt.

There was plenty of time for her to stop him, he gave her that time and she did nothing, only panted and watched him in the mirror.

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