Page 32 of Razor

Ihope this ride is an eternal one because I can’t believe my luck. To say it’s a little awkward in the cold light of day is an understatement.

It’s as if last night is merely a delicious secret between us, and I’m not sure where we go from here.

I didn’t want to cling to him, but I can’t help myself. I’m guessing Razor has been with many women and wouldn’t appreciate me wanting more.

It hurt to leave him with no guarantee of a repeat performance, and when I saw him at breakfast, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. The other women were talking about their night with a Reaper, but I said nothing. I’m not prepared for what happened between us to be the subject of gossip over the breakfast table with the self-styled whores.

I don’t judge them; hell, I’m one of them now. At least that’s how I see myself. I may as well have forced Razor to fuck me last night. It was all me, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I wanted him so badly it took all of my concentration, and I don’t regret a minute of the most magical experience of my life.

But I want more.

More nights like that. More of his attention.

His smile, his soft touch, his cock driving more pleasure than a girl can stand. I want more of him, and as luck would have it, destiny smiled on me today because I get him all to myself for as long as the ride takes.

I wish it were eternity.

Men like Razor are like rare exotic species that only happen once, if at all, in a woman’s life. I hate the idea that last night was our only time because how can I move on from that?

It was the single most magical experience of my life. If it’s the only memory I have I will nurture it until I’m an old woman in a nursing home, reliving the most treasured memory on repeat.

Now I understand why Britney referred to one night with a Reaper being worth more than a lifetime with your childhood sweetheart. She meant Creed, but I’m guessing it applies to them all. One night with Razor ruined me for anyone else, and I’m good with that because I will always hold that memory.

Sadly, the town isn’t far, and as he pulls into a parking space, my heart is heavy as I tug off the helmet.

My hair must be a mess and my face flushed from the thrill of the ride, and I smile my thanks, saying shyly, “I appreciate your help.”

He cocks his head to one side.

“What’s your plan?”

“Supplies mainly. I’m running out of a few essentials and fancied a morning in the town; normality if you like.”

“Alone?”

His gaze is intense, and I shift a little.

“I wouldn’t mind some company.”

He nods.

“It would be my pleasure to carry your bags.”

His sudden smile melts my heart and I resist the urge to fling myself into his arms.

God, I’ve missed this man, and it’s only been a few hours since I took my walk of shame.

He points to a store nearby. “You can grab most of what you need in there. There’s a small coffee shop around the back. We can grab one when you’ve finished up.”

“Sure. I’d like that.”

His gaze softens, and reaching out, he unzips the jacket. My breath catches as he leans forward and whispers huskily, “The jacket looks good on you, darlin’.”

Warmth spreads through me as I gaze into his ice-blue eyes, and I nod, smiling softly. “It feels good, darlin’.”

I wink and he rewards me with a hungry gaze, and before I can react to that, he pulls me roughly toward him, and his lips find mine as if they’ve always had that right.

I kiss him back with a hunger I can’t explain and he devours me in the street. His fingers twist in my hair, his hand resting on my thigh, his leg pushed between them.