Page 15 of Reaper & the Lioness (Lone Star Mavericks MC #1)
“Please. Let’s look at your history. The tech bro organized his socks by color and theme. The senator’s son insisted you quit working after your hypothetical first child. The think tank analyst cheated on you at a gala. And the lawyer was married. Married!”
“To be fair, I didn’t know. Did I tell you what I did right before I confronted him?”
Rhetta’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “Please tell me it was epic.”
I laughed. “More devious. I poured a half gallon of milk into his golf bag because I knew he had an important golf meeting that weekend with some clients. And then I slipped my panties just barely under the pillow on her side of the bed. She must have found them because I heard they split right after that.”
“Good for her. Have you gone on a date since moving here?”
I shook my head. “I gave a guy my number a few weeks ago. The first thing he sent me was a dick pic. I told him I'd just check my bank account if I wanted to see something that disappointing.”
Rhetta cackled and caught me up on her dating misadventures before meeting Thane. Since I’d need to call an Uber anyway, I ordered a fourth drink with dessert. When the check arrived, my cheeks burned, and the world before me blurred slightly.
Rhetta insisted on paying, a thank you for a job well done, and we stepped out into the quiet downtown street as the waitstaff wrapped up for the night. Most restaurants had closed, and the only people milling about moved from bar to bar.
Thane and Reaper leaned against their bikes outside the restaurant.
Rhetta’s lips brushed Thane’s cheek, leaving behind a faint berry-colored lipstick smudge.
I tried thanking the men for their help earlier, but my words slurred together.
The haze of the tequila coursing through my system made it challenging for me to form sentences.
“You’re drunk.”
Reaper’s voice sounded flat and annoyed.
“S’fine. I’ll Uber.”
He shook his head. “I’ll drive you home. Get on.”
My eyes narrowed. “You’re kind of bossy, y’know? You better be nicer, or I’ll give this Uber-cycle a two-star review.”
“Get the fuck on the bike.”
My heart raced as Reaper guided me onto the back of his Harley. The world blurred as Rhetta’s laughter and Thane’s knowing smirk faded into the background.
“Okay, okay. I promise to give the Reaper-Uber at least a four-star review,” I said with a giggle as he settled in front of me.
Drunk me thought I was funny. Reaper did not appear to agree. He moved my hands, wrapping my arms around him tighter before glaring at Thane.
“You fucking owe me,” he growled at his president.
The Harley’s engine roared to life. A deep thrumming vibrated through me, and I gripped Reaper’s body with a desperate hold as he pulled away.
The cool night air whipped against my face, clearing some of the alcohol-induced fog.
In my drunken haze, it dawned on me that I liked riding on the back of a bike. And, if I was honest, I enjoyed being pressed against Reaper. His body radiated heat against mine, and I felt his muscles shifting beneath my hands as we navigated turns and accelerated.
Warmth pooled low in my belly—dangerous, addictive warmth. In my buzzed boldness, one of my hands slipped lower, exploring the hard muscles of his thigh. The bike swerved, and his body tensed.
“Eva,” Reaper’s deep voice rumbled in warning. “You’re drunk. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine. “Who says I can’t finish?” I teased, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through my veins.
Reaper’s hand came down to cover mine, firmly moving it back to his waist. “Not tonight. Just enjoy the ride.”
I pouted. “I thought bikers were supposed to be all about living dangerously.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his back and into my chest. “I do live dangerously. But taking advantage of drunk women isn’t my style.”
“Who says you’d be taking advantage?” I mumbled, pressing my cheek against his leather jacket.
“Ask me again when you’re sober.”
As he revved the bike, the sudden surge of power beneath us caught me off guard, and I let out a startled squeak as my seat began to slip. I clutched tighter around his middle, my hands pressing firmly into his leather cut. The action seemed to amuse him as a low, rumbling laugh escaped his lips.
I realized I’d never given Reaper my address when we pulled into the driveway.
“How do you know where my house is?” The realization sobered me slightly.
“Because I know everything about you, Lioness.”
“Lioness?”
Reaper gave me a grin. “You remind me of a lioness. Fierce. Fearless. And fucking relentless.” His gaze softened, a hint of admiration creeping into his tone. “And I don’t for one second trust you to not rip out my goddamn throat.”
I tried not to smile. Rarely did men see through my professional persona. I’d learned to hide my ruthless side behind a carefully constructed mask, and it sent a thrill through my body as it dawned on me he had glimpsed beyond the facade.
The tequila tore through my inhibitions, and I leaned in to meet Reaper’s lips in a reckless kiss.
My heart pounded in my chest, and my senses became overwhelmed by his taste and the feel of his lips against mine.
Reaper pulled me closer, and the heat of his body seared against my own, chasing away the chill on my arms from the windy ride.
Internally, I cursed. He was a client. Off limits. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. I pulled back and sucked in a ragged breath.
Reaper smirked at me in amusement. “Well, that’s one way to thank me for the ride home. Be sure to leave me a five-star review on … what did you call it? Uber-cycle?”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the ride.” I turned toward my house, and my brows furrowed.
“What?” he asked as he noticed the tightening shift in my posture.
“I left a few lights on for my puppy, but the house is dark.”
Reaper pushed his cut aside to reveal a holstered gun. “Stay behind me,” he growled as he scanned the shadows.