Page 33 of Razor

It’s as if I’ve died and gone to heaven.

I’m in no hurry to finish what he started either. The passers-by may as well be invisible as I make out with Razor in full view of the town.

He pulls away, his voice gruff as he whispers, “Now we shop, then we get coffee and then, darlin’–”

“Yes, Razor.”

My breath hitches as he gazes deep into my eyes and growls, “Then you’re mine for the afternoon.”

I am delirious with lust right now, and I nod slowly, my breathing erratic, desire heavy in my eyes.

He plants a soft kiss on my mouth and whispers, “Don’t take too long.”

As I break away and he follows me into the store, I’m not sure if there’s enough oxygen in here to go around because that wasso hot I’m still suffering the effects. I swear I miss half of what I came here for in my hurry to become his for the afternoon.

* * *

It’s a verydifferent experience shopping with a man and definitely a man like Razor. He follows me, rarely speaking or offering an opinion, carrying my basket, just a soft smile when I chat shit to him and decide on my selections.

Then there are the other customers. The way they gaze at him in awe, a few snapping photographs or videos on their phones. The glances of lust from the women and envy from the men. It’s as if a celebrity is in town, and it’s a lot to deal with. Razor is a very striking man, for sure. His wild mountain look appears out of place in suburbia.

Any bears need wrestling in the vicinity? I know a man for that.

He is oblivious. His concentration solely on me, and it’s a powerful aphrodisiac. I’m not even sure if I am buying the right products. He is my sole focus right now.

His leather Reaper jacket is a badge of honor, and he fills it well. The shade he gives from his huge body is intimidating as fuck. I have never felt so safe in my life as I am with him, and yet he says nothing, is merely a silent bodyguard, his gaze promising soul-destroying things will happen later in the day.

By the time we reach the cashier, I’m one hot mess, and as she rings up my purchases, Razor steps forward and presents his card.

“Hold on to this one, honey.”

The cashier winks and Razor grins at her, causing her to fan her face with her hands. “Sooo hot in here.”

I roll my eyes at Razor, who grins, and I swear I have never wanted a man so badly before.

We head outside and I whisper in a low voice, “I can pay for my groceries.”

“I didn’t say that, but I’m guessing you hold the same credit card as me with the money coming from the same bank account, so what difference does it make who pays?”

He makes a valid point.

“Then why did you pay?”

“Because you’re a lady and in my world, the gentleman should always pay.”

I have no words, none that would make a difference, anyway. He is right, but I suppose I pride myself on my independence, and I’m fully aware I’m being subsidized by the Reapers, and that doesn’t really sit well with me. I want to pay my way, but I was told working in the bar and around the compound earns you unlimited funds, and yet for some reason I want to earn my money fair and square.

“Don’t overthink it, darlin’.”

Razor pushes open the coffee shop door while carrying my bags.

“Overthink what?”

“This life. The money is there for everyone to use. Nobody cares what you do with it.”

“I guess, but it still seems wrong to accept something I haven’t earned.”

“You earn it by being a Reaper, darlin’. Every job in that compound is important, no matter what it is.”