Page 24 of Resurfaced Passion

CHAPTER SEVEN

“101 ways on how not to declare your intentions.” – Paige

Strong angled jaw. Plump lips pressed into two thin lines, the ends of his hair were wavy under the hat and brushing against that same angry jaw.

Oh, yeah. Paige was looking across at a quietly seething Reaper, and for a long minute her brain couldn’t join the dots connecting the Reaper she knew, to the one she was looking at with his handsome jaw ticking the muscle erratically.

It was as though he was two people.

God help her, she didn’t hate what she was seeing, but she had a whole lot of questions buzzing around her brain.

Her belly began twisting.

He was sitting across from her after dragging the chair open enough for him to wedge himself in, yet she felt like he was all over her.

“We’re kind of in the middle of something here, friend.” Carson finally spoke. A nervousness to his voice and fingers. Not surprising with the way Reaper turned his head to glare at him.

Paige swallowed and laid her hand on Carson’s forearm for a second to let him know it was alright.

It was the wrong thing to do because the noise that came out of Reaper, a hot thunderous sound zipped straight through the middle of her body. A violent noise, she about fainted right there on her bar chair.

It was heat and destruction and it was so damn sexy that she was now sitting in wet panties. Being around Reaper, in whatever form, always felt like they were halfway through foreplay just from glances alone. It was hot and disturbing.

She took her hand back immediately and watched him watching her while she tucked her fingers in her lap, a wordless exchange that held a lot of meaning she didn’t fully understand.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Carson asked and Paige wanted to tell him to shut up.

“He’s my friend.”

“Who I am is none of your business.”

Reaper spoke over her in a tone sharp enough to strip paint.

She wasn’t sure she believed in signs, but if she did, having the man she’d been trying desperately to push out of her mind all night suddenly appear like an avenging demon to break up her date pretty much looked like a sign to Paige.

She didn’t know whether to wiggle with joy or be pissed off at his timing.

“What are you doing here?” She asked again, noticing he his boys were across the bar and were craning their necks unashamedly watching this all go down.

Paige had no clue what was happening, and her racing heart was no help whatsoever. She couldn’t stop the thrum of excitement making the ends of her fingertips numb as she clasped them together. It was a constantly occurrence around Reaper, before she schooled herself and locked it away and just acted as his friend and not a woman who wanted to lick all over his face and lay her head on his belly to sleep. But those first few minutes in his company, it was fourth of July rockets inside her pastel Vicky S underwear.

She was a terrible date because her focus became all about Reaper, leaving poor Carson out in the cold.

“You didn’t mention you had a…boyfriend, Paige.” Carson accused with a nasty bite to his voice. His eyes when she looked over were equally scathing.

She blinked at his change in demeanor. Sure, it was a shock to have another guy sit down at their table, but she wouldn’t have expected him to glare daggers at her in that way.

“He’s not.”

“You don’t listen too good, do you? Who the fuck I am to her is none of your business, but it’s time for you to go.” Reaper addressed Carson in a low, deep voice. Make no mistake anyone hearing it would know it came with a side order of a threat.

“What the fuck?”

Paige had to agree.

He’d gone from marginally toe-curling hot to … overbearingly bossy in seconds. How dare he decide when her date was over?

“You’re embarrassing me, Reaper. Go back to your friends.”

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