Reaper
“Fuck,” I mutter, slamming my phone down on the table. I’d left Laurie three messages today, asking her to call me. I’d told her it was important, but I still haven’t heard from her.
“No luck?” the funeral director asks as he walks back into the room.
“No,” I say with a sigh. I don’t have the first fucking clue about flowers and urns, and goddamn obituaries. I was really hoping I could get a hold of that bitch so she could at least help me provide her mother with a decent send-off, but it wasn’t looking like that was going to happen.
“Okay. Well, we can get started then, if you’re ready.” I follow him into a room filled with urns and caskets, and my gut churns. This entire building smells like death, but now, mixed with the varnish of the wood in the room, I’m ready to toss my lunch. “These urns here are our more popular sellers,” he says, showing me a row of urns, most of them carved out of wood, a couple of them a polished metal with swirls of engraved flowers and crosses.
How the hell am I supposed to know what kind of urn Sharon would have chosen? How am I supposed to pick the place she’s going to spend eternity? I’d done this before, when my grandmother had passed, but Sharon had been right beside me, making all the crucial decisions, making it easy for me to just grieve. This time, I feel more alone than ever.
I go through the motions as the funeral director asks me questions and gives me information on different aspects of the funeral. I then give him the answers to all the questions I can about Sharon so he can get started on her obituary. There are a lot of things I can’t answer, and I feel like a piece of shit for not knowing the basic things, like where she was born, or what year she got married. He assured me it was fine, and promised he’d be in touch with her lawyer to find out the answers to the unknowns, but when I walk out of that funeral home, I can’t help but feel I’ve failed her.
I’ve hated my ex-wife for close to twenty years, but with every minute that passes since her mother’s death, my animosity grows even more. I can’t wrap my head around how selfish a person has to be to walk away from a loving family, only to return when you need money. Sharon deserved so much better.
Needing to do nothing but clear the fog from my head, I hop on my bike and head toward the outskirts of town. I have nowhere to go and nowhere to be, and I just want to be alone with the road. The sun’s just beginning to set, but it’s a nice night, and I revel in the wind as it whips my hair around from under my helmet. I miss this. I miss just being on the road. So much shit has gone on lately, and I haven’t had much time to just ride for the love of riding.
I had no destination in mind when I’d set off, but after a while, I find myself close to Ryker’s house and realize that may have been my plan all along, to see Anna. Infuriating, messed up, gorgeous Anna. The only person I feel like being around right now.
The driveway is empty when I pull up, and I know that Charlotte’s probably at work, and Ryk’s likely at the clubhouse. I knock on the door and wait for it to open, suddenly feeling unsure of myself. I’ve treated this woman like shit, and now I’m here, looking for her company. I really am an asshole.
When the door swings open, my self-deprecating thoughts come to a screeching halt as I take in the woman before me. She’s got her hair pulled up high in a fucked up knot at the top of her head. She’s wearing a little pink camisole and a pair of super short pajama shorts, covered in hearts. She doesn’t have a speck of makeup on her face, and atop her freckled nose sits a pair of silver framed glasses with a funky design along the edges. She looks fucking incredible.
She takes one look at me and I swear, it’s like she knows. She knows I’m miserable. She knows I’m hurting. Without a word, she steps outside, bare feet and all, wraps her arms around my neck and stands up on her tiptoes to pull me to her. She’s so short, the top of her head barely reaches my shoulder, but it’s the most welcome fucking hug I’ve ever had.
Bending a little, I wrap my arms around her waist and hug her back, wrapping myself up in her sweet scent and soft skin, desperate to forget the last couple days. Anna doesn’t speak, but her thumbs slowly caress the back of my neck, her fingers pressing against the sides as her face is buried in my chest.
When I move my own thumbs, I stroke bare skin, and instantly things change. Heat fills the air and my head swims a little as I struggle to get in a full breath. I slide my hand up under the back of her shirt, skimming along her spine toward her neck, and I feel her press herself closer, her tits crushing into my chest.
We haven’t even spoken yet, but I know she wants me just as bad as I want her, as I need her. I feel her hot breath through the thin material of my cotton T-shirt, then the unmistakable press of her mouth over my heart.
Unable to take it anymore, I reach down and grip her ass in both hands, then in one swift move, I lift her up. Her legs automatically wrap around my waist as I step inside the house. Anna’s lips are on mine, and I kiss her back as I kick the door shut behind me with the heel of my boot.
I’ve been to Ryker’s house enough times to know my way around, so I kiss her back, my fingertips digging into her firm, round ass, kneading it with my palms as she delves her hot tongue between my lips.
My body is buzzing as I step inside her bedroom and walk straight to her bed. She holds on tight, her arms and legs wrapped around me as my knees hit the end of the mattress. I crawl up onto it, my lips never leaving hers, and lower her head to the pillows.
Anna
When I’d opened the door and saw Reaper standing there, I hadn’t expected things to go this way. I don’t know what had made me embrace him. He’d just looked so lost and alone, but now, in this bed with him, he is completely in control.
His mouth devours mine, his velvet tongue awakening a need inside me that I hadn’t even known was there. My skin tingles as his fingertips slide across the skin at my sides, and before I know it, my shirt is up and over my head. My bare nipples scrape against the leather of his cut and the embroidered patches sewn onto it. The feeling is surprisingly raw and erotic, and I push against him, my own hands searching for his belt buckle.
He doesn’t give me the chance, though. In one swift movement, he leans to the side and whisks off my shorts, revealing my bare and wanting flesh beneath. His hands grasp my tits, his fingers and thumbs rolling and tugging at my nipples as his feral eyes take in what he’s uncovered.
“Christ, your pussy is unbelievable,” he groans. Then his tongue is there. I let my eyes fall shut, my toes curling as he swirls and flicks his tongue against my sensitive nub. His beard scrapes against my inner thighs, and when he settles himself on the bed between my legs, I have to open wider to accommodate his broad shoulders.
Heat builds behind my clit, and every stroke is like a fanning of the flames, my entire body quaking with my need for release. I grip his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his flesh, but it doesn’t hurt him. If anything, it spurs him on. He sucks my clit in deep between his lips, his tongue slipping and sliding over it, driving me to the edge of what I can only assume is insanity as moans and senseless words erupt from my throat in hoarse gasps and pants.
The burn becomes unbearable as my hips roll in time with his mouth. It’s not until he sinks a finger inside me that I shatter. The heat that’s been building explodes and washes through my trembling body as I scream, “Oh, God. Fuck! Yes!”
His moans mix with mine, and the vibration of it only draws out the pleasure. As I come down from my high, Reaper continues to pleasure me, his movements slowing as my body floats back to reality. When he finally pulls away, his eyes are dark and hooded, his jaw set with determination as he quickly unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans down his hips. I watch in wonder as he peels off his leather cut, then his shirt, leaving him naked before me, wearing nothing but tattoos and his dog tags.
I open my mouth to say something, but before I can get it out, he’s inside of me. He sinks in like I was made for him, his cock a perfect fit, filling me as much as possible. His eyes are fierce and molten as he stares down at me, his hips thrusting and rolling in a way that lets me know I won’t last long before he sends me into a state of euphoria once more.
My eyes fall closed, but open when his hand grips around my throat in a way that’s firm, but not painful. “Eyes on me,” he growls, his thrusts coming faster, harder, and more delicious. I do as he’s ordered, the carnal need in his gaze holding me captive as I give myself to him.
“Jesus, Anna,” he gasps, his voice hoarse as I plant my feet into the bed and roll my hips to the fast-paced rhythm he’s set. Our skin becomes shiny and slick, and I can feel the flush on every inch of my skin as he drives me closer and closer to the edge.
I stare into his eyes, taking in the ruddy colour of his cheeks beneath his scruffy beard and open my mouth in a silent scream as it builds. “Yes, baby. Fuckin’ come.” His hips lose all rhythm as he holds my waist in his hand, and I know he’s about to reach his own release. I watch him as he watches me, and the look of unguarded pleasure on his face is all it takes to send me flying once more.
I cry out his name, and feel his cock jerk inside me as he comes with me, his movements slowing as he moans. Through it all, he never removes his hand from my throat, and his eyes never leave mine. I’m held hostage by him in every way, and for the first time in my entire life, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
As our bodies relax, his forehead comes down to meet mine and his hand at my throat tenses just a little. I’ve been choked before, but this is different—intimate. He’s not choking me. With Reaper, it’s like an embrace.
When his sated gaze meets mine, I push down the swell of emotions he’s churned up and smile. “Well, that was a hell of a hello.”
Reaper blinks back at me, then his face splits into a grin before he throws his head back and laughs. I smile back at him, taking his weight as he does and wonder how we got here so fast. It isn’t until he pulls out that my smile fades.
Feeling the trickle of fluids between my legs, my heart stops, and I feel like the rug has just been pulled out from under me. “Please tell me you used a condom,” I whisper.
He stiffens and looks down. “Fuck.”
Panic wells up inside me. I’d just finished my period two days ago, so I’m hoping that means I’m safe from any unwanted pregnancy, but Reaper is a King, and one thing I know the Kings like to do is fuck women. A lot of them.
“I’m clean,” he says, pulling away and standing beside the bed. I lie there, naked and exposed, his cum seeping out of me. “I always glove it up. I just got a little carried away. What about you? You clean?”
I nod, unable to believe I’d been so stupid. “Knox took me to get tested after I’d told him my story. You’re the only man I’ve been with since then.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “You on the pill?”
I shake my head. “No. I was, but I just never went back for a refill on my prescription and I wasn’t having sex, so I didn’t think it was an issue.”
“Shit,” he mutters as he sits down on the edge of the bed.
“It’s okay, I think. I just finished a cycle, so it should be okay.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him or myself, but at least for him, it seems to work.
Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to my lips. “I’m really fuckin’ sorry, darlin’. Shit.”
I take a deep breath and try to wipe the mounting anxiety from my mind. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
He stares at me for a beat, as if trying to decide if I’m lying or not, then nods. “You eaten?”
I shake my head. I’d been reading the course outlines and doing some research on my course, and was so involved in it, I hadn’t had time.
His hand shoots out and pats me on the hip. “Get up. Pack a bag. I’m takin’ you to my place and cookin’ for ya.”