Page 39 of The Reaper
“Like what?”
“Like I ignored you.”
“It’s enough that you see me now.” I gasped quietly and plastered a smile on my rain-splattered face, fighting off the shiver that wanted to break free. I wanted to let him know it was okay. I would be okay.
“There you go again, saying it’s enough. It’s not. Not for me.”
We stared into each other’s eyes, blinking away the rain that peppered our cheeks. Panting into the misty cold air, we breathed each other’s breath as our own. My heart was thumping, my pulse racing, and every inch of me was drowning in him.
I waited, scared to move in case it broke the spell we were both under. I wanted to stay like this forever, close to him, held by him, hypnotised by him. And then, everything stopped as he leaned forward, and I felt the gentle brush of his lips against mine.
He was kissing me.
No warning.
No words.
Devon Brady was really kissing me.
Slowly, tenderly, his lips moved against mine like I was made of silk, and he was savouring the feel, the softness. I closed my eyes, wanting to experience him through every one of my senses. The way he smelt, the taste of his lips; it felt like he was gently bringing me back to life right here in this rainstorm.
I reached up, placing my hands on his hard, broad chest. His T-shirt was soaked but the heat of his skin through the wet fabric warmed my palms. I could feel his heart racing under my fingertips and his chest heaved as he kissed me with the kind of intensity I’d always dreamed of. After a while, he became more insistent and pushed me back against the wall behind us. His kiss deepened, his tongue tasting mine, and I sighed into him, losing all sense of place or time. When he pulled away, it felt like a loss that I couldn’t bear, but he kept his hands on my face and then gently placed a kiss on my forehead and the tip of my nose. I felt like my heart was about to burst.
Devon Brady had kissed me.
“I know you don’t want my promises.” He whispered the words right into my heart, and I wanted to tell him that I did. I wanted them all, I just didn’t want the rejection that would follow. But before I could reply, he added, “But Icantell you this. I’m not sure what’s going to happen. Like I’ve said, I haven’t done anything like this before. Relationships don’t come naturally to me, not with anyone. But for you… with you, I want to try.” He took a few more deep breaths and then he placed his forehead against mine and asked, “Can we try?”
I bit my lip and nodded. Like I’d ever say no to him.
“Leah May Johnson, I think you might be the strongest woman I’ve ever met,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“What makes you say that?” I asked, reaching up on my tiptoes, daring to place a sweet kiss on his lips.
“Because you’re willing to take on a lost cause like me.”
“You’re not a lost cause, Devon. You’re just a lost soul. At least, you thought you were. But I’ve never seen you in that way.”
“What did you see?”
“The other half of me.”
The words were out before I could stop them, and I worried in that split second that I’d scared him off a little. But he gently rubbed his thumb over my cheek again and said, “You’re right. It can’t rain forever. But if standing in the rain with you makes me feel like this, I’m not sure I ever want it to end.”
I’d told him I didn’t want any promises, but in this moment, I promised myself one thing. No one would ever own my heart, because it was his. Forever and always.
ChapterEighteen
DEVON
“You’re loitering. Just come in and tell me what it is that’s got you pacing in front of our door like a mad man.”
The others were still at the warehouse, but I’d come straight back to The Sanctuary after dropping Leah May at home, and now I was pacing the hallway outside Adam’s room, debating whether to talk to Liv or not.
“Your mind is procrastinating so loudly I can hear you from in here,” Liv shouted from behind the door. “You’re giving me a headache, so do us both a favour and get your ass in here.”
Realising I probably had no choice at this point, I stepped in and closed the door behind me. Liv was sitting on her new black velvet sofa under the window. Something she’d bought recently to give Adam’s room what she called her ‘feminine touch’. Tyson was lying across the whole thing with his head in her lap, and she was scratching between his ears and gazing down at him like he was her baby. I moved some of the throw cushions she’d scattered all over their bed and sat opposite her.
“What’s up?” she asked as she bent down to kiss Tyson.
