Page 29 of Reaper & the Lioness
“Okay, okay. I promise to give the Reaper-Uber at least a four-star review,” I said with a giggle as he settled in front of me.
Drunk me thought I was funny. Reaper did not appear to agree. He moved my hands, wrapping my arms around him tighter before glaring at Thane.
“You fucking owe me,” he growled at his president.
The Harley’s engine roared to life. A deep thrumming vibrated through me, and I gripped Reaper’s body with a desperate hold as he pulled away.
The cool night air whipped against my face, clearing some of the alcohol-induced fog.
In my drunken haze, it dawned on me that I liked riding on the back of a bike. And, if I was honest, I enjoyed being pressed against Reaper. His body radiated heat against mine, and I felt his muscles shifting beneath my hands as we navigated turns and accelerated.
Warmth pooled low in my belly—dangerous, addictive warmth. In my buzzed boldness, one of my hands slipped lower, exploring the hard muscles of his thigh. The bike swerved, and his body tensed.
“Eva,” Reaper’s deep voice rumbled in warning. “You’re drunk. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine. “Who says I can’t finish?” I teased, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through my veins.
Reaper’s hand came down to cover mine, firmly moving it back to his waist. “Not tonight. Just enjoy the ride.”
I pouted. “I thought bikers were supposed to be all about living dangerously.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his back and into my chest. “I do live dangerously. But taking advantage of drunk women isn’t my style.”
“Who says you’d be taking advantage?” I mumbled, pressing my cheek against his leather jacket.
“Ask me again when you’re sober.”
As he revved the bike, the sudden surge of power beneath us caught me off guard, and I let out a startled squeak as my seat began to slip. I clutched tighter around his middle, my hands pressing firmly into his leather cut. The action seemed to amuse him as a low, rumbling laugh escaped his lips.
I realized I’d never given Reaper my address when we pulled into the driveway.
“How do you know where my house is?” The realization sobered me slightly.
“Because I know everything about you, Lioness.”
“Lioness?”
Reaper gave me a grin. “You remind me of a lioness. Fierce. Fearless. And fucking relentless.” His gaze softened, a hint of admiration creeping into his tone. “And I don’t for one second trust you to not rip out my goddamn throat.”
I tried not to smile. Rarely did men see through my professional persona. I’d learned to hide my ruthless side behind a carefully constructed mask, and it sent a thrill through my body as it dawned on me he had glimpsed beyond the facade.
The tequila tore through my inhibitions, and I leaned in to meet Reaper’s lips in a reckless kiss. My heart pounded in my chest, and my senses became overwhelmed by his taste and the feel of his lips against mine. Reaper pulled me closer, and the heat of his body seared against my own, chasing away the chill on my arms from the windy ride.
Internally, I cursed. He was a client. Off limits. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. I pulled back and sucked in a ragged breath.
Reaper smirked at me in amusement. “Well, that’s one way to thank me for the ride home. Be sure to leave me a five-star review on … what did you call it? Uber-cycle?”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the ride.” I turned toward my house, and my brows furrowed.
“What?” he asked as he noticed the tightening shift in my posture.
“I left a few lights on for my puppy, but the house is dark.”
Reaper pushed his cut aside to reveal a holstered gun. “Stay behind me,” he growled as he scanned the shadows.
Chapter Twelve
Acold sense of dread washed over me as Eva’s words registered. Though drunk, I trusted she remembered leaving a few lights on. Every instinct in me—honed from years of danger as a Marine and a Maverick—screamed something seemed off. I didn’t know Eva well, yet my blood boiled at the thought of her in danger.
