Page 14 of Reaper's Hunt

I scoff, my boots scuffing the pavement as I start walking again, the bar’s neon sign glowing in the distance. “That’s not how this works.”

“It does when I know about a certain black Camry that dropped off a pretty little present today.”

He’s talking about the courtyard, the body I nailed to the tree, my car parked just out of sight. “Are you the fucker that called me Sparrow?” I snap, my voice shaking with rage and fear.

He laughs, a low, distorted sound. “Who the fuck’s calling you Sparrow? No, “killer” or “sweet death” suits you better. Now, do we have a deal?”

So, now there aretwofuckers blackmailing me? Great. Just great. “Send me the reason,” I growl into the phone before hanging up and marching the last few steps to Sinner’s Notch. “Somebody in there better be open to buying me fucking tequila.”

Someone, in fact, was very interested in buying me shots, sending them over like water. Some big fucker in the corner with a few of his friends. As long as his cock’s fat, I’ll head on over in a few minutes and demand he take me home. He doesn’t look like he’ll be my speed, but if I’m on top, everything will work out just fine.

Knocking back my last shot, I blow out a deep breath and push to my feet, knowing that any more alcohol will render me useless, and that’s the last thing I want. The shaved head and leather vest screams trouble as I approach the guy at the back, his hungry gaze raking over my curves. He straightens up when I stop just a few inches from him, his friends whispering and chuckling as he stands to greet me.

“Was wondering if you were going to come on over here, you pretty thing.”

Strike one.Pretty thing? What kind of fucking come on is that?

Still, I’m horny and pissed off and he’s the only one in here that looks worth my time… Well, some of it. I let him pull me close; his mouth tastes like cigar butts and disappointment, sour and stale. His tongue is sloppy, pushing too hard, and I gag, shoving at his chest.Strike one thousand.Kisses aren’t really my thing with one-night stands but they’re absolutely off limits when the guy tastes gross as fuck. “Yeah, this isn’t happening.”

He doesn’t listen though, his finger digging into my hip, this sorry excuse for a guy thickening against my belly. A few years ago, I would have freaked the fuck out that this man was ignoring my ‘no’. Now? I’m equipped with several weapons in this bar that will allow me to get the message across. Letting those nasty kisses trail down my jaw and to my neck gives me the vantage point I need as I reach onto the table and snatch one of the steak knives there.

Then I drive my knee up into the man’s cock, taking the moment of shock and pain to send him crashing to the floor. I’m on him in a second, straddling his chest, the blade pressed to his throat, the point biting into his skin. “The drinks don’t make you entitled to all of this, you asshole. When I said it wasn’t happening, I meant it,” I hiss. My hair falls over my shoulders, obscuring part of my face and I know from experience how terrifying that makes me look with my gray eyes.

Fear swirls in his expression, but it’s masked by the booze. No doubt he’d be screaming if he was completely sober or cursing at me, but the knife at his throat is doing a pretty good job of keeping him quiet. Unfortunately, I only have a few seconds before one of his friends tries to jump in. My grin turns feral as I focus on the blade against his flesh, a small trickle of blood pulling free as I dig the metal in just a little bit deeper.

Oh, that’s going to scar really pretty, isn’t it?

Before I can do something I’d regret, strong arms haul me off him, my feet dangling as I’m carted across the bar. I’m too shocked to struggle, the knife still clutched in my hand. One of the bouncers deals with the burly guy, dragging him up and shoving him toward the door, while another voice barks that they’re closing early, shooing the stragglers out.

The bar empties faster than I’d expect at this hour, everyone scrambling to obey orders that don’t make a lick of sense. Sure, I had a knife to a man’s throat but he fucking deserved that shit. Although, a few more minutes and he’d have become another victim of mine. I’m about to yell at the fucker who’s got me pinned to his side, when my feet touch the floor, a rather handsome face staring down at me with more concern than I can handle right now.

I recognize him as the guy who owns the bar, deep hazel eyes always catching everything that happens here. The weird part is that despite his dangerous aura, he’sgorgeous.Like, “tall, dark, and handsome” gorgeous. Like a “wicked smile and tattoos that make me want something I shouldn’t possibly be focusing on when I need to be planning my exit” gorgeous.

He reaches a hand up to rub the stubble along his jaw, muscles straining beneath his black shirt as he studies me. And then that boyish grin I’ve seen on his face before makes an appearance as he slips the knife from my hand and sets it on the table near us. “As hard as it gets me with a knife to his throat, he’s kinda important, so I couldn’t let you kill him here. I also don’t like cleaning up messes like that. You gonna be okay to get home?”

“You ruined my chance at a good hard fuck,” I retort, brushing my hair back into a ponytail before straightening my dress.Nearly flashed everyone, Selene. Although that might have gotten you a fuck.I just sigh, knowing that my favorite vibrator is going to get a lot of action tonight.

The bar owner throws out his hand, willing me to take it like we’re just two people meeting at a fucking coffee shop. “Ronan. And if you’re asking, I’m offering.”

I raise an eyebrow as I step closer, my eyes locked on his. “Is this some kind of trap? Does that line work for you? Because I know you own the fucking place and yet you closed an hour early. Seems like an awful expensive play if you close the bar every time you decide you want to get a fuck in” The door says two am and it’s barely one.

He doesn’t flinch, his hand still outstretched, his gaze raking over me like he’s already picturing me under him. “And you’re the woman who came in here obviously looking for a bad decision,” he replies, an edge to his voice promising me a man who knows how to use his cock. “I’ll be the best bad decision you can make tonight or I can be a respectable gentleman and make sure you get home safe. Your choice.”

“I’ve had a pretty fucking shitty day,” I say, pressing my chest against his, watching his smile widening even more. “How hard can you fuck me?”

Ronan’s grin turns feral, his eyes darkening with hunger. “Would you like me to leave you feeling me for a few days? Because I can do that. String you up, fuck you unconscious, whatever the heart desires. Say the word, sweetheart.”

He reaches forward, gently wrapping a hand around the front of my throat. Unlike Dante’s fingers, Ronan’s aren’t as soft, a gruffness to them that tells me he knows he’s capable of fucking me as hard as I need him to. “Alright, show me what you got, pretty boy.”

Ronan

Thebar’semptynow,the last of the drunks and degenerates shooed out by my bouncer, who’s locking up as I drag the silver-haired woman through the back hallway of Sinner’s Notch. Guiding her to my cramped little office at the back of the bar isn’t the best idea I’ve had in a while, but it’s the only place where I can give her my full, undivided attention. I don’t give a fuck about the mess of papers on the desk or the half-empty bottles lining the shelf; my attention’s locked on her, this wild thing with stormy gray eyes and a fire in her expression that could burn Ashthorne to ash.

I don’t mix with patrons, not like this. I stay behind the bar, eavesdropping on deals and betrayals, passing the juicy bits to Malik so he can wade into the chaos with his knives and madness. Bounty hunting’s my outlet, not my life. Chasing low lives keeps the blood pumping; but the thrill’s faded over the years, the jobs blending into a gray haze.

I’m always searching, though, for someone exciting—someone who can match the darkness I keep leashed. And this woman… fuck, she’s it. The way she pinned that bastard to the floor, knife to his throat, her eyes blazing with murder, sent a jolt through me that I haven’t felt in ages. Now, with her in my office, making those pretty, desperate sounds, I’m more than happy to stay in this game. I can’t wait to rub this in Dante’s face. A woman this wild, this vicious, this fucking needy, and all mine for the night.

She smells like floral and ginger as I push her against the small desk, the wood creaking beneath our movements. My hands slide down her dress before rucking it up around her waist, her bare ass staring at me as she bends over my desk. God, it’s been too fucking long since I gave into a bad decision. My cock thickens in my pants as I run my palms over her bared flesh and then pull her thong to the side, my fingers brushing her core. She’s already wet and I’m not sure what makes me harder—the fact that she’s dripping from nearly gutting that guy or the anticipation of the hard fuck she’s begging for. Maybe both. She twists around, her gray eyes meeting mine, impatience lurking in her expression. “Pretty boy, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I’ll go find that bastard whose throat I nearly slit and sit on his cock.”

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