Page 23 of Reaper & the Lioness (Lone Star Mavericks MC #1)
Chapter Seventeen
I woke to excited puppy yips and the aroma of strong coffee. I slipped on Reaper’s T-shirt, abandoned on the floor last night, and stepped out of the bedroom as he measured a white substance on a small scale atop the kitchen counter.
“Is that cocaine?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.
Reaper glared at me, dumping the powder in a bowl before picking up a whisk. “I’m not a fucking drug dealer. It’s monkfruit powder.”
I blinked at him twice. What the hell was monkfruit powder? I stepped closer to peer over the bowl.
“Since you don’t understand how ingredients work, I’m making you blueberry muffins so I don’t have to be your delivery boy. Between leftovers from last night and these, you should be able to forage on your own for a full day.”
I rolled my eyes. “You measure your ingredients with a scale? Are you that much of a control freak?” I examined the ingredients spread across the kitchen island.
Almond flour. Coconut oil. Whole wheat flour.
“Are you making me healthy muffins? Oh, God. Are you one of those ‘I treat my body like a temple’ guys?”
Reaper chuckled. “I promise these will be good. What do you usually eat for breakfast?”
“I treat my body like a dive bar. Usually, it’s coffee with sugar and cream. If I eat anything, I’ll have a bowl of Captain Crunch or maybe a slice of cold pizza.”
Reaper faked a shudder and shook his head as he poured the batter into muffin cups. I dipped my finger into the mixture and brought it to my mouth. Our eyes locked as I sucked on it suggestively.
“Hmm, not bad. Could use some more sweetness, though.”
Reaper grabbed me around the waist, lifting me to sit on the counter. “I can think of something sweet.”
Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I leaned in as he began to kiss my neck.
“I like seeing you in my shirt,” he growled in my ear.
“Get those in the oven, and I’ll let you see me out of it,” I joked, hopping off the counter to pour myself a cup of the death-fuel coffee he’d brewed with a generous addition of cream and sugar.
He sighed. “I would love to, but I just got a text that there’s a problem at one of my jobs. I have to head out in a minute.”
Reaper slid the tin of muffins into the oven. “You’ll have to take these out in twenty-five minutes. Do not let them burn.”
He glared at me as if he didn’t trust my cooking skills, even with the simplest of responsibilities. I laughed, making a show of setting the timer on my phone before taking off my shirt in the kitchen and sauntering to the shower.
M y mind raced as I prepared to start working at my computer. The previous night’s events played on repeat in my head, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations leaving me breathless.
I’d never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Reaper had discovered everything—my fights, my sealed record, and even the darkest secret I’d kept buried for years.
It should have crushed me and sent me running for a country that offered no extradition. But instead, a weight lifted off my shoulders. For the first time in my life, someone accepted me fully—the good, the bad, the downright brutal—and didn’t flinch.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but I couldn’t focus.
All I could think about was Reaper’s gaze last night, his dark eyes filled with admiration instead of judgment.
The way he’d called me his Lioness, like some adorable animal rather than a justice-driven vigilante who belonged in prison for pre-meditated murder.
A shiver ran through me as I thought of his touch, gentle yet demanding. The way he’d pinned my wrists above my head. The raw desire in his voice. The way I’d moaned his real name.
A connection existed between us that I couldn’t explain or rationalize away.
I’d spent years keeping everyone at arm’s length. It seemed safer that way. Easier. But Reaper had somehow slipped past my defenses.
It terrified me.
I stroked Hawk’s fur and contemplated the feelings bubbling inside. I’d grown accustomed to being in control. I called the shots in every facet of my life. My experiences in romantic relationships were few and far between, but I sensed this could be different.
If I let it.
I needed to talk to Kenna. She had a sixth sense for my relationship woes.
Me: So, I have a confession to make.
Kenna: YOU DIDN’T
Kenna: Please tell me it was as good as I imagined.
I grinned, biting my lip.
Me: Better. Maybe the best?
Kenna: Like, ever?
Me: Yeah. I’m in so much trouble.
Kenna: DETAILS. NOW. I want adjectives. I want metaphors. I want fruit and vegetable–size comparisons. Are we talking carrot? English cucumber? Eggplant?
I snorted at her lack of boundaries.
Me: A perfectly sized banana. Thick, yet long enough to bruise my cervix.
Kenna: Hot. Also terrifying. But mostly hot. Can you walk today? Are you freaking out?
Me: Very much freaking out. He’s so different from anyone I’ve ever been with.
Kenna: Honestly, that’s a good thing. Your taste in men has been shit. You should roll with this. See where it goes. Don’t run before you have a chance to find out what you have.
I stared at the screen, her words sinking in. Don’t run.
I was in dangerous territory. Reaper wasn’t just some guy I could have a fling with and forget. The logical part of my brain screamed at me to pull back, to protect myself, to put up the walls again. But my heart wanted more. And now that I’d had a taste, I craved every part of him.
I shook my head as I attempted to clear my thoughts. I had work to do. But as I finally managed to focus on my laptop screen, I couldn’t shake the thought that my life had irrevocably changed. For better or worse, Reaper had carved out a spot in my world.
A fter a few hours of focus, responding to client emails, and editing copy for some ads, my burner phone pinged with a text.
Rhetta: How’s life in captivity?
Me: Quiet. But less murdery than it would be at my house, I guess. You should come over. We could have a cookout or something.
Rhetta: We’re free tonight! I’ll have Thane coordinate with Reaper on the menu … because I know you can’t cook. Is there anything you need me to bring?
Me: Snacks. Unhealthy ones. If I have to eat one more carrot stick, I’m going to stab Reaper in the eyeball with one. I’m going into candy withdrawal here.
Rhetta: We’ll be there around 6. I’ll bring ALL. THE. SNACKS.