Page 66 of Reaper
"Don't be ridiculous."
"It's okay, you know. I think it's kind of cute."
"Cute?" I turn to face him fully, ignoring the curious glances from the old women behind us. "I am not cute."
"You're right. Sexy as hell when you're possessive, though."
My pulse kicks up, but I keep my voice level. "We have time to kill before tomorrow night. And we have a lot of important work to do first."
His eyebrows raise, the playful expression shifting to something more focused. "What kind of work?"
I reach over and grab his hand, my fingers closing around his wrist with deliberate firmness. The contact sends electricity up my arm, but I keep my voice steady and low.
"The kind where I claim my territory."
His breath catches, just slightly, and I see his pupils dilate. The cocky grin transforms into something darker, hungrier.
"Here I thought you were all business," he murmurs.
"I am all business." I stand up, keeping hold of his wrist, tugging him to his feet. "This is business. Making sure you remember who you're working with."
The old women behind us whisper excitedly in Mandarin, probably making bets about whether we'll make it out of therestaurant before tearing each other's clothes off. Smart money says no.
I throw some money on the table and then pull him toward the door. We nearly make it before my tongue is in his mouth and my hands are on his ass. He responds instantly, his mouth crashing against mine with a hunger that matches my own. His hands find my waist, pulling me against him as I taste desperation and want on his lips. The kiss is feral, all teeth and tongue and the raw need that makes rational thought impossible.
I can barely register the delighted gasps from the old women still inside, or the way other diners are probably staring. All I know is the heat of his mouth, the solid weight of his body pressed against mine, and the way he groans low in his throat when I bite his lower lip.
"Outside," I gasp against his mouth. "Now."
I don't wait for an answer. I grab his jacket and pull him toward the door, stumbling slightly as he spins me around to capture my mouth again. We crash through the exit in a tangle of limbs and barely controlled lust.
The chill morning air hits my flushed skin, but it does nothing to cool the fire burning through my veins. If anything, being outside makes it worse. More urgent. More real.
"Adriana," he breathes my name like a prayer, backing me against the brick wall beside the restaurant's entrance. His hands frame my face as he kisses me again, deeper this time, like he's trying to claim every inch of my mouth.
The jealousy that started this whole thing is still there, burning bright and possessive in my chest. The image of him laughing with Yichen, exchanging numbers, making plans — it makes me want to mark him somehow, to make it clear to every person in this city that he's mine.
When did I become this person? This possessive, desperate woman who can't think past the need to have him?
But I can't bring myself to care about the answer. Not when his mouth is moving to my neck, not when his teeth scrape against my pulse point and make me arch against him with a soft cry.
"We need..." I start, but lose the thought when his hands slide down to my hips.
"Need what?" he murmurs against my throat.
"Somewhere private. Or close enough." The words come out rougher than I intended. "Now."
I scan the street, my tactical training warring with pure animal need. There's an alley beside the restaurant, narrow but clean, shadowed by the buildings on either side. Empty except for a dumpster and some scattered newspapers.
Perfect.
I grab his hand and pull him deeper into the alley, away from the main street and any curious eyes. My heels click against the asphalt as I walk him backward until we're hidden in the shadows.
"Here's good," I say, my voice steady despite the way my heart is hammering against my ribs. "I'm through waiting."
His eyes go dark, that cocky grin replaced by something raw and hungry. "You sure about this?"
Instead of answering, I push him back against the brick wall and kiss him again, pouring all my frustration and jealousy and want into the force of my lips meeting his. Then, an urge takes me — I want, I need to claim him even deeper. I growl at him, like he’s a perp and I am sick of whatever malignant bullshit he thinks he can get away with. “Put your hands behind your back.”
