Real smooth, Elena.For a second, he didn’t answer.He searched her face, like he was looking for cracks, for fear, for second thoughts.
“Yeah,” he said.“Okay.”
She reached for his hand before she could overthink it.His fingers were warm, callused, and he closed them around hers without hesitation.The contact sent a quiet shiver up her arm, steady and grounding all at once.
She led him to her room and the space felt suddenly too small, like the walls had leaned in to watch.Elena shut the door behind them.The silence that followed was thick, heavy with unsaid things.
Reaper stayed near the door, arms loose at his sides, watching her like she was something wild that might bolt if he moved too fast.She crossed to the small dresser and grabbed one of the beers she grabbed from the MC kitchen fridge the night before when she couldn’t sleep.
“Warm beer?”she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.
“Sure,” he said.
She handed him one can.Their fingers brushed.Again, came an immediate and unavoidable spark.
They drank standing up, neither quite ready to sit, the alcohol warming her throat but doing nothing to slow her pulse.She leaned back against the dresser, the wood cool through her clothes.
“I really appreciate what you’ve done for me today,” she said quietly.
“You did what you needed to do,” Reaper said.
She looked at him then, really looked.The lines at the corners of his eyes.The scars that told stories he didn’t offer freely.She pushed off the dresser and stepped closer.
“So,” she said softly, “what do you want, Reaper?”
He laughed once, low and rough.“You’re asking dangerous questions,” he said.
“Answer anyway?”she pressed.
He set his can down carefully, like he needed both hands free.
“I want you,” he simply said.
Her breath caught.
“I’m right here,” she whispered.
He closed the distance between them in two steps.Reaper wasn’t touching her yet, although she wished he was.He stood close enough that she could feel his heat, smell leather and smoke and something unmistakably him.
“Okay,” he said.
She lifted her hand and pressed it to his chest.Felt his heart, steady and strong beneath her palm.His restraint snapped like a wire pulled too tight.He cupped her face with both hands, brushing his thumbs along her jaw, and kissed her.
It wasn’t rushed.It was deep and deliberate, like he was memorizing her.His mouth moved against hers with controlled intensity, asking and taking at the same time.She opened for him with a soft sound she didn’t recognize as her own.
The kiss turned hungry fast.She slid her hands up his arms, over hard muscle, fingers curling into the back of his cut.He groaned quietly into her mouth, the sound sending heat pooling low in her body.
When he pulled back, their foreheads rested together, breaths tangled.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said.
She shook her head.“Don’t stop.”
It seemed that was all the permission he needed.Reaper slid his hands to her waist, his touch firm and possessive without being too rough.He backed her up until her calves hit the edge of the bed.She sank down, tugging him with her by the front of his shirt.
He followed, standing between her knees, looking down at her like she was something he’d waited a lifetime to touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, voice a little rough.
