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I hit the button on my garage door opener and drive right in. I hear the rumble of pipes and smile. Reaper. He drives into the garage and parks his bike beside my car.
“Hey,” I whisper once I slide out of the driver's side.
“You good?” he asks, his gorgeous silverish eyes scanning me from head to toe.
“Yeah,” I reply, my heart still beating a mile a minute. I’m surprised I haven’t had a heart attack yet.
His grin is soft and languid. I love how sweet he gets. He moves toward me and pulls me into his body. I go easily, loving the way he holds me. “Close the garage door, honey, then come back to me.”
I don’t even hesitate. I do as he asks, smiling the whole time. I love the way he called me honey in that rough voice of his.
When I return, I’m pulled back into his arms and his lips descend on mine. I open for him, letting him deepen the kiss. My hands slide up his back and I cling to him, needing more.
“Fuck,” he snarls as he tears his lips away from mine. “I’m goin’ to be fuckin’ addicted to you, Esme, so fuckin’ addicted.”
I blink at his words, my heart stopping. He can’t be serious. What? I stare up at him and see that his eyes are darkened with lust and his gaze is focused solely on me.
“Reaper,” I whisper, wondering what he’s thinking.
“What did that asshole do to you?” he asks, his voice rough but with an edge of sweetness. “Hmm? You’re so fuckin’ beautiful it hurts my eyes and yet you’re looking at me as though I’m fuckin’ crazy.”
I pull in a ragged breath. “You think I’m beautiful?” I ask without thinking.
His eyes harden, and I instinctively take a step backward. “Don’t,” he says roughly. “Fuck, don’t be scared. I’m not goin’ to hurt you.” He steps forward and takes my face between his hands. “I’m tryin’ real hard not to go track down your ex. That asshole is a fuckin’ dick, and I’d love to lay hands on him for hurtin’ you.”
I blink, trying not to let the tears that are threatening to fall do so. “He’s not worth it.”
“But you are,” he says instantly. “Trust me, Esme, you’re fuckin’ beautiful, and the fact that you don’t know you are is a fuckin’ travesty, baby.”
I shake my head. “Please don’t call me baby,” I ask him. That’s what Harry called me, and I hate it.
He flashes a grin at me. “I won’t do so again. Now, let’s get you somethin’ to eat.” I open my mouth to protest but he silences me with a kiss. “We’re gonna eat and watch TV, then we’re goin’ to bed, and honey, I’m goin’ to fuckin’ show you just how beautiful you are.”
I stare at Reaper, wondering how this has happened. It was only meant to be sex. Something that I know I’m capable of giving someone. I don’t know if I can handle anything else, but Reaper’s pushing into my life, and he’s made me feel wanted and pretty within minutes. I haven’t felt this way in years, and I don’t know how to handle it.
“Come on, Es, let’s go.” He takes my hand and interlocks our fingers. How can I be so at ease with him?
I open the door to my kitchen and let him in. I purchased this home about four years ago. My granny died and left me and my brother a substantial amount of money. I always knew that I wanted to own a home. The moment I saw this, I fell in love. I couldn’t hold back. I put a bid in, and it was accepted. It needed a major overhaul, but thankfully, both my dad and brother are great with their hands and they did as much of the work as they could and hired others when they couldn’t.
I have rented out the house for the past three years, bringing in extra income. I never told Harry that I had purchased a house, nor did I tell him that my granny left me some money. Thankfully, the renters that I had for the past three years left about six months ago, so I started to redecorate and didn’t put the house back up for rent again. It meant once I came home from my parents, I had a fresh start in my own home. It was perfect and everything that I needed.
“Your house is nice,” Reaper says, and I turn to see him taking everything in.
“It took a while to get it to where I wanted it, but I love everything about it. It’s exactly as I imagined.”
“You own this?” he asks, his brows raised.
I nod. “I do. My granny died and left me some money. I’ve been renting it out for the past three years.”
He nods, his gaze still roaming around my sitting room. “It doesn’t seem like a house you’d live in.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
He turns to face me, a smirk etched on his lips. “This is homely, a place where you kick back and relax.” He steps forward. “You are fuckin’ classy. Every inch of you is sexy and class.”
I feel the heat rising through my cheeks. “That’s clothes and makeup,” I say softly. “I grew up with two parents who worked their asses off to give us what we needed and to keep a roof over our heads. I watched my parents work countless days and nights to make ends meet. They gave me everything so that I could do better.”
He nods. “Isn’t that what all parents want?”
