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Shoving my hand in his pocket for another snack, I choose one for myself and one for him and toss it on his lap.
“His Reaper?”
“Yes, this man is near death. Why does he not have a Reaper?”
Wait, what?
“Does that happen if someone thinks about ending it all?”
He nods. “If the attempt is likely to be successful, yes.”
Huh. I guess that makes sense…
“It’s probably because it’s not real. It’s all scripted.”
“Right.” He nods.
Turning back to the movie, he’s once again absorbed. His free hand strays to his head where he finds the ball of his hat and begins rolling it through his fingers as he watches the show. My heart pulls at the innocence of it. An innocent Grim Reaper? Is such a thing possible?
Grimm continues to confound me. And excite me. Really,reallyexcite me. I eat so much candy that my insides protest. But I dip my hand inside his pocket for one more, mostly because now I'm craving his touch and candy is the only excuse that I’ve got.
My fingers brush his thigh through the material. Forgetting the treats, I rub my hand against his leg, slowly at first, in small stretches. But then I slide up and over his thigh.
Grimm suddenly looks at me.
My fingers rest against his crotch. Something bumps against my hand, a twitch. Then another. The bulge there grows bigger.
His sharp blue eyes widen.
I smile and withdraw my hand, returning my attention to the movie. He’s watching me now, so I reach for the poof on my hat and innocently twirl it between my fingers.
Let him have a taste of his own medicine.
Chapter Six
Grimm
The film Morgan dragged me to ends on a high note, a tribute to its overly cheery title. It was not the worst thing I have been forced to watch, though I expected more given its somewhat dark concept. There could have been a death, at the very least. A memorable one.
The screen fades to black and all the humans seated around us get up to leave, including the ones in our row. Squeezing through like a queue, they pile together, shoving at one another as if they will win a prize if they are the first to exit the room. Human antics continue to confound me, as does Morgan, who slowly stands up and kicks her seat down with her foot as soon as it’s clear.
“So what did you think?”
I ponder for a moment, distracted by the curve of her hips and the way her clothing hugs them. I also ponder how not that long ago it was she who seemed distracted by me and my body.
How the tables have turned, as humans like to say.
She wishes to prolong her life. To live until she ages seventy-nine years. But she is a mortal, and I will not fall for her antics to lure me to her bed. For clearly that is exactly what she wants… and by all that is insane, I almost gave into the temptation to take her to the ‘back’ and do dirty things with her.
The way her hand had so brazenly grazed my flesh is forever ingrained in my mind. It was… it was not right. I tell myself this, and yet this mortal body of mine spews lies to confuse my mind. It thinks that what she did was perfectly fine, the appendage between my legs hard, throbbing and aching for her to do what she did before all over again.
I stand up and turn away to adjust myself. How humans survive in these bodies of flesh is beyond me.
“The movie was fine. It passed the time,” I tell her, still working to fit my clothing more comfortably with this stupid erection that I have.
At first, I did not mind watching this film with her, but I lost interest when I learned it was all fake. George had no Reaper.
My shoulders drop when another thought enters my mind. I have not been assigned any other souls to reap besides the ones given to me before I was tasked with taking Morgan to the afterworld.
