Page 44 of Reaper & the Lioness
If I let it.
I needed to talk to Kenna. She had a sixth sense for my relationship woes.
Me: So, I have a confession to make.
Kenna: YOU DIDN’T
Kenna: Please tell me it was as good as I imagined.
I grinned, biting my lip.
Me: Better. Maybe the best?
Kenna: Like, ever?
Me: Yeah. I’m in so much trouble.
Kenna: DETAILS. NOW. I want adjectives. I want metaphors. I want fruit and vegetable–size comparisons. Are we talking carrot? English cucumber? Eggplant?
I snorted at her lack of boundaries.
Me: A perfectly sized banana. Thick, yet long enough to bruise my cervix.
Kenna: Hot. Also terrifying. But mostly hot. Can you walk today? Are you freaking out?
Me: Very much freaking out. He’s so different from anyone I’ve ever been with.
Kenna: Honestly, that’s a good thing. Your taste in men has been shit. You should roll with this. See where it goes. Don’t run before you have a chance to find out what you have.
Istared at the screen, her words sinking in. Don’t run.
I was in dangerous territory. Reaper wasn’t just some guy I could have a fling with and forget. The logical part of my brain screamed at me to pull back, to protect myself, to put up the walls again. But my heart wanted more. And now that I’d had a taste, I craved every part of him.
I shook my head as I attempted to clear my thoughts. I had work to do. But as I finally managed to focus on my laptop screen, I couldn’t shake the thought that my life had irrevocably changed. For better or worse, Reaper had carved out a spot in my world.
After a few hours of focus, responding to client emails, and editing copy for some ads, my burner phone pinged with a text.
Rhetta: How’s life in captivity?
Me: Quiet. But less murdery than it would be at my house, I guess. You should come over. We could have a cookout or something.
Rhetta: We’re free tonight! I’ll have Thane coordinate with Reaper on the menu … because I know you can’t cook. Is there anything you need me to bring?
Me: Snacks. Unhealthy ones. If I have to eat one more carrot stick, I’m going to stab Reaper in the eyeball with one. I’m going into candy withdrawal here.
Rhetta: We’ll be there around 6. I’ll bring ALL. THE. SNACKS.
Chapter Eighteen
The rain pelted my leather jacket as I jogged into the clubhouse, the familiar scent of leather, motor oil, and stale beer hitting me like a punch to the gut. My muscles ached from a morning spent fixing a leaky roof, but there was no rest for the wicked. I stepped inside and shook off the rain.
A familiar scene played before me. Thane sat at the bar with a cigarette dangling from his lips, drinking with Linc and Jack. Bones huddled in the corner with Merrick, their grease-stained hands tinkering with a bike. Archer and a few prospects hovered near the pool table.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Thane called out with a shit-eating grin across his face. He took a long draw of his cigarette. The smoke curled around him as much as his smugness did. “Thought you might’ve forgotten about us.”
I flipped him off as I approached the bar. “Some of us have actual work to do, dickhole.”
Thane slid a beer my way. “Uh-huh. And does this ‘work’ have long legs, pretty blue eyes, and a smart mouth?”
