Page 44 of Resurfaced Passion

“No, they knock me out.”

“A good night’s sleep is what you need. I can go home.”

His expression got cloudy. “No.”

“Yes.”

“You in the mood for pizza? A burger?”

Paige sighed, hands went to her hips, looking up at his beautiful eyes. “Why did I not know how stubborn you are?”

“Because I always give you your own way.” He announced and pulled open a drawer, brought a bunch of menus out and dumped them on the island.

Oh, my god. She flushed hot and cold and then scorching.

He was right. He did do that.

How had she not realized?

With his forearms braced on the island top and his butt stuck right out, he glanced over at her and a tingle started at the top of Paige’s spine and traveled all the way down until her panties were damp.

“What do you fancy?”

You. God. So much.

“Erm.” Words failed her. “Anything, whatever you want.”

“Burgers.”

“That sounds good. Then you can take your pills.”

He grunted and made the call. Then he took a quick shower while Paige kicked off her shoes and curled her feet under her on the couch to watch an episode of House Hunters, she was addicted to this show. She was determined one day to buy a scrappy little house, with a porch and a big yard, four bedrooms, three bath and a basement big enough for a little crafting room. She loved old houses with character, one she could fix up herself even though she was useless with a hammer.

Just another dream on her long list.

A knock at the door startled her and she jumped up. “I’ll get it,” from behind her.

Nothing more entered Paige’s brain from the moment Reaper walked by her, opened the door, paid the young boy for the food and then closed the door. And you know why? He was shirtless. He was flipping shirtless. Hair wet, jeans hanging on his lean hips and no shirt covering his golden body.Nothing.

He strode by her so fast to dump the food sack on the counter that she missed seeing up close the tattoos he had on his torso and by the time she came to her senses, he was already pulling a black wifebeater on over his head, clinging to his upper body, covering all that gorgeous and leaving a lot still for her to die over.

“Come and eat, Paige.” He said from the kitchen.

With water bottles from the fridge next to the food, she climbed onto the stool beside him.

“How’s your head?” He worryingly looked worse than he’d been an hour ago. Frowning, she wanted to soothe that line in his forehead so bad.

“Still attached,” he half smiled. She lit up and patted his forearm. He stiffened and Paige pulled her hand back. God, she could never tell with his mixed signals what he wanted from her.

Pushing it out of her head, she concentrated on opening the burger box he put in front of her, with a package of crispy fries, pushing three into her mouth.

Reaper watched her, licking his lower lip. Eyes hooded.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed quietly, turning to his own food. She watched him eat sometimes, in the diner. He was so precise even as he ate like men do taking giant bites. He used a napkin to wipe his fingers and mouth and most often she forced herself to stop watching him because his mouth did things to her.

Sexy, dirty things. Tingly, swoony,dirty things.

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