Page 71 of The Reluctant Reaper
Jealous. He said he’d try not to be jealous of La Croix. Which is ridiculous.
Jealous?
Huh.
“Amara?” He peered down at her. “Are you in there? Blink twice if you understand.”
“I haven’t quite figured it out yet. The scope of the problems. Or solutions.” Truth. “But when I do, you’ll be the first to know.” Lie. “Also, please stop looming.”Pretty please? Because the urge to grab you by the ears and kiss you is goddamned overwhelming.
“That’s not really an answer.”
“Because I’m not really sure what’s going on. I’m not being mysterious, I just need to let the other side of my brain work on it for a bit. All I’ve got right now are vague suspicions. Babbling my half-formed bullshit theories is dangerous. I need more data.”
He studied her in the dark and she held her breath. After a few seconds that felt like hours, he lay back down. “Fair enough.”
Hmmm. Not like him to give up so easily.
The ludicrous part? She was disappointed he had.
ChapterThirty-Six
Mmmmm... warm...
Oh. One ofthesedreams. That was fine. That was just fine. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex. Well, she could, but counting up the years was too depressing. Normally she dealt with her biological urges with assistance from her trusty Hitachi. But alas, there hadn’t been room for Señor Shakyandall the boxes of hair dye.
She wriggled closer to the warmth and mumbled appreciatively when strong fingers threaded through her hair, felt warm breath, heard deep, contented humming. Then there was a warm mouth on hers and she had no interest in waking up. Instead, she luxuriated in the kiss, burrowing still closer for warmth, and her fingers skated across cotton and delved lower as...
... as...
She cracked an eye open and found herself staring at Gray’s eyelids, and yelped into his mouth.
“Shit!”
“What? Ow, fuck!” Gray was as horrified as she was, going by his appalled expression and how he’d pulled away so hard he’d tumbled to the floor.
She peeked over the edge. “Are you okay?”
“I—I—” He gaped up at her and did the goldfish thing a few more times. “Fuck.”
“Well put.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” She blinked down at him and cast about for something—anything—to explain herself. “If it helps, I wasn’t molestingyou. It was the dream man.”
“I was just about to make the same excuse.”
The mortified hilarity hit them both at the same time. “It’s my fault,” she tried to explain between giggles. “I haven’t had sex in ages?—”
“Same. It’s been almost a year for me.”
“—and I was having this lovely dream...”
“I know! I guess we can be grateful our terrible morning breath woke us up before we got, um, dreamier? Our timing is terrible.”
“So is everyone else’s,” she replied dryly. She glanced over at her phone and nearly groaned when she saw the time; more Reaps beckoned. Every day of her life. Forever.
And so no time to waste.
