Page 61 of Razor

I’m not sure I believe him because Razor has ridden out on many missions since I arrived and none appears to have affected him as much as this one.

“Is it because Blade isn’t here?”

Pain flickers in his eyes, and I obviously hit that right.

“He should be with me.”

He says no more and then jerks his head toward the store.

“Let’s get this done. There is a better way to spend the day, and it involves you distracting me from my mood.”

I roll my eyes as he grins, his lustful gaze burning me inside.

It’s been months, and he still has the same effect on me. I am so screwed, and he knows it.

CHAPTER 31

RAZOR

Ifollow Sunday around the store like a lovesick puppy, and if I had a tail, I would wag it every time she smiles at me.

I’m preoccupied for sure because feelings are deepening and I’m not okay with that. I can’t act on them. I won’t break the rules I live under. But it’s hard to continue along the same road when there is a junction ahead and a better road to travel on opening up. I want Sunday to be my old lady. I want a family with her, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. But how can I?

My past is the creator of my future, and I must adhere to that. I will not be my father; I promised my mom that when I tossed a rose onto her coffin. She is a constant reminder of when obsession destroys, and my twin and I are living proof of that.

There are many sad tales of woe in The Rubicon, and many believe it’s the angels who suffered the most. Many of them did, but The Reapers have their own stories to tell, but harden their hearts and channel the pain into a greater force. I am still living with mine. Blade not so much. He came to terms with the demons many years ago, so why can’t I?

Because you are the most like him.

My inner voice reminds me why and resets my brain. My life with Sunday will never be any different, and I must come to terms with the fact she may not be okay with it and walk away.

Life sucks, but I’ll live with it. For her sake, not mine. Because I care too much for her.

After our coffee, we head back and, as has become routine, we eat first and then head to my room to work it off.

I will never tire of fucking Sunday. We do it most days anyway, sometimes more than once.

I’m insatiable where it concerns my girl, and as we spill into the room, we waste no time in ditching our clothes and falling into bed.

Our kisses are dirty, our minds fucked, and our bodies abused to distraction. Sunday appears sweet and innocent, but in the sack, she is one hot sex machine, and I love that about her.

As she gazes into my eyes, my strokes are long, slow, and drawn out, so I savor every minute of the time I’m inside her. Her lips part, her breathing is erratic, and the soft sheen of sweat on her brow drives me even harder.

Her legs wrap around my waist, and she pulls me in deeper, maintaining eye contact, her gaze hypnotic. She licks her lips; I tug one through my teeth, sucking on it, swelling it double, loving the groan she fails to contain.

Back and forth, deeper, harder. Sweat glides between us, the stench of sex hanging heavy in the air.

She grips my face, her nails sharp, her gaze possessive, her body compliant.

“I love you, Razor.”

The soft, sweet sound wafts through my soul, painting it in peace. Her smile is sweet. Almost innocent. Her happiness a real entity all of its own.

This isn’t the first time she’s told me she loves me. Every time it hits me square in the heart. But this is the first time itbothers me, because I can’t say it back and probably never will. She accepts that, but I don’t. She deserves more; she should have the world.

I close my eyes, banishing the demons away, thrusting harder. Powering in deeper, sinking into madness as I explode inside her.

I am a selfish prick; she hasn’t come and as I pull out, I drop down lower, greedily taking her into my mouth. I suck on her clit, pushing two fingers inside her. My cum staining my fingers. She bears down on them hard, her breathing heavy, and as I press my thumb down on her clit, curling my finger around her G Spot, she screams my name into the silence, over and over again.