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“Tell me this isn’t temporary,” he demanded, his mouth an inch from her weeping folds.
Morana nodded. “It isn’t temporary.”
“Good,” he murmured, his words heating her flesh right before he pressed his mouth into her, tasting her for the time. Morana saw stars for a split second, her thighs jerking around his head as he held her down, his magnificent blue eyes holding her captive.
And she felt his tongue rapidly f
lick out over her clit.
Her back came off the couch, her breathing labored as he started to eat her out like a starved man seeing a feast for the first time.
He wreaked havoc on her pussy with his mouth.
She was never the same.
Long after her body was sated and limp and they were in bed, Morana traced the frown lines on his forehead and told him about the codes, asking him about his day. It was normal, so normal she’d never thought they would have something like that and she was half-scared it would be taken from them.
“You asked me about a third guy today,” Tristan muttered, his fingers drawing inane patterns on her shoulders. “It reminded me of a conversation I’d heard that day.”
Morana stopped at his eyebrows, looking into his eyes. “The day-”
He nodded wordlessly. Morana waited for him to go on, knowing anything about that day was thin ice. She didn’t know how he would react to something about it.
“Your father and Maroni had been sitting at the table,” he reminisced, that faraway look entering his eyes. “Your father threatened Maroni and he subdued your father by mentioning another guy. ‘Remember what happened to Reaper,’ or something like that, he said.”
Morana stilled.
Her heart stopped for a second.
She scrambled up and looked down at him, unable to believe if it could be that simple.
“Reaper,” she shook his arm urgently. “Are you absolutely sure that’s the name he mentioned?”
Catching on to her urgency, she saw him sit up as she hurried out of the bedroom and down the stairs to where she’d left her laptop.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he trailed after her, his voice slightly confused. “What’s going on?”
Morana quickly pulled up her chat window and turned the screen to him, her heart beating a mile per minute. “Could it be that easy?”
She saw him read the chat and see the username, saw his face harden as his eyes came to her. “You never mentioned him.”
Morana waved it off. “That’s not important. The point is, could this be the same guy? The guy I met on the pier said something about him being dead.”
Tristan stared at the screen longer, frowning. “It could be but I don’t know. I’ve never heard of any Reaper in the Outfit, even in passing.”
Silence ensued for a long minute while they considered it, their eyes clashing.
“Let me make a call,” Tristan told her. He went to a drawer and took out a burner phone she’d never seen, leaving the room to go outside, shirtless as he was. Morana followed, standing on the threshold, the chilly wind cutting against her bare legs and arms, the lake completely quiet in the night.
She saw him press some buttons as he turned to look at her, putting the device to his ear.
“I have something,” he said quietly, and Morana felt her breath catch. “Ever heard of Reaper?”
There was silence as he listened to whatever the guy on the other end was saying, his frame coiling tighter and tighter. Minutes passed, and unable to stand it any longer, Morana stepped off the porch and onto the grass, her bare feet feeling the cold, wet dew, and walked to stand in front of him.
“When?” Tristan asked, looking at her. “Fine,” he said and disconnected, breaking the phone in half and throwing it into the lake.
“Who was it?” Morana asked, curiosity killing her.
