There’s the slightest hint of his tattoos peeking out from the neckline of his shirt, and just like the last time I saw them, it leaves me desperate to see more. Desperate to find out what art decorates his strong body. But as I stand closer than I’ve ever been, I notice something new about him—a scar. It starts at the top of his brow and slices straight through to the center of his cheekbone, leaving me intrigued and needing to know exactly what happened to him.
I wonder what he would do if I were to reach up and touch it, to brush my fingers across the angry scarring on his face.Would I lose my life or just my fingers? Or perhaps I wouldn’t lose anything at all. The one thing I know for sure is that being intrigued about a man like this could only mean trouble for me.
His fingers tighten on my throat, but not enough to block my airway, and I can’t lie, if I weren’t about to shit my pants with fear, this would absolutely turn me on. His fingers are large, and I can feel the underlying strength within them. He could snap my neck if he wanted to, and yet all that matters is how warm his skin is against mine.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to get my shit together before this man leaves me as nothing more than a forgotten body in an old alleyway.
Swallowing past the fear, I shove his chest, and he backs up, shock flickering in those lifeless eyes as though he hadn’t expected me to be so bold. Though I suppose that doesn’t happen often for him. People crumble under his stare, run in the opposite direction, never seek him out, and they sure as fuck never fight back.
“Why did you do it?” I demand. “Why spare me?”
He stares at me as though he can’t get a read on me, and honestly, I don’t blame him. I can’t seem to get a read on me either. “Would you have preferred that I didn’t?” he asks, recovering from his earlier shock and creeping back in, his fingers testing their limits on my throat.
I clench my jaw, certain he doesn’t intend to kill me, at least not tonight. “You don’t think I’m worth your time, do you?” I question as an ugliness begins to take hold of my chest. After all, I haven’t worked as hard as I have just to be pushed aside and looked over when it actually matters.
Those lifeless eyes hold mine with such scrutiny it’s hard to hold his stare. “Oh, how easily your ego is bruised, Little Siren.”
I fix him with a heavy stare, letting him know I’m not backing down until I get the answers I’m looking for, and when he letsout a heavy sigh and loosens his hold on my neck, a shiver sails down my spine, only this one isn’t like the chills I got earlier. This is different.
His eyes become softer, suddenly no longer lifeless, but filled with a deep excitement that makes my heart race, and I don’t doubt he feels it with the heavy beat of my pulse thrumming against his fingers at the base of my throat. “Killing you would be the greatest reward I’ve ever achieved, Kienna James.”
I suck in a gasp, my back stiffening as he uses my real name—a name that not even I have used since I was fourteen years old.
His fingers loosen further, and as he holds my stare, his hand grows heavy, sinking lower and dropping to my chest. “I have watched you closely these past few days. You have intrigued me. Your moves are divine, and when you take a life, it’s like a precise dance, an absolute masterpiece. To take your life would be nothing less than an honor. When I kill you, which I will, sweet Siren, I expect it will be a kill worthy of shouting from a rooftop.”
I lift my chin, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his body presses in closer, his hard edges right up against my soft ones. “I see,” I whisper, his lips only a breath away from mine as the sexual tension in the air almost cripples me. “You’re all about the chase? You like a woman who’ll make you work for it.”
His hand drops lower, grasping my waist and squeezing tight, and he presses me harder against the brick wall. “I like a woman who gets on her knees and begs for it.”
Well, fuck. For him, I’ll beg until my throat is raw, not that I’m about to let him know that.
My hand slips up the front of his black shirt, brushing across the hard ridges of his abs before roaming higher to his wide chest. My fingers splay over his warm skin, and as my knees grow weaker with a deep need, I can’t help but fantasize about how good it could be between us. “You really think I’m about togive it up for you?” I ask, letting my fingers explore his strong chest.
His lips drop to the base of my throat, roaming over my skin the same way my fingers roam over his. “I don’t see why not,” he murmurs against my neck. “You’ll be dead in the next twenty-five days, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t enjoy what little time you have left.”
A sharp scoff tears out of my throat, his callous words like a bucket of ice water being tipped over my head. I shove him back, freeing my hand from the confines of his tight shirt as I hold his heated stare. “You’re a little too confident for a dead man.”
“Don’t be foolish, Little Siren,” he says, a hint of amusement in his deep tone. “You and I both know you won’t get the drop on me.”
“Is that so?” I ask, stepping away from him, taking note of how easily he allows me to go.
Reaper’s only response is to nod, and I can’t help the smile that cuts across my face. This is the best foreplay I’ve ever had. “We’ll see about that,” I tell him. “Oh, and next time you call me by my real name, I will put a bullet through your brain.”
He nods again. “Noted.”
“Good.”
Walking away, I make my way back up the alley. Only I stop once I reach the top and glance back at him one more time, hating how fucking wet he made me. I’m going to have to get my ass home and deal with this before I explode.
He’s watching me leave, and as I capture his dark gaze one last time, a wicked grin stretches across my face. “For the record, when you get me all worked up and wet like this again, you better have the fucking balls to follow through.”
Reaper takes a step as if to come and show me just how well he can follow through, but before he gets a chance to show me just how good it could be, I’m gone.
After all, it’s best to always keep them wanting, right? Because at least that way, when he sees me next, he’s going to be thinking a little less about killing me and more about fucking me raw. And that right there is a plan I can more than get down with.
Making my way back to the old gym, I take my time, knowing that Reaper won’t be coming after me again tonight. I’m sure he crossed many of his own boundaries by saving me, talking to me, and touching me tonight, just as I’ve crossed many of my own.
Seducing the enemy? Allowing him to get that close? Not exactly my finest hour. He could have killed me at any moment, but I felt safe with him. I believed that he didn’t want to hurt me, and when I pushed him back, letting him know he was getting too close, he gave me the space I needed. Don’t get me wrong, I fully believe that when the time comes, he’ll end me just as he’s promised, but until then, I don’t think he means me any harm. If anything, I think he’s curious about me, and as long as he remains curious, then I’ll live to see another day.