The Reaper and the Cop (3 page)

“Yeah, had. Took a while, but we got rid of them.”

I should have been paying attention to the turns he took, but I was too busy being impressed about the boggarts. Related to brownies, they were nasty little bastards who tended to terrorize families, following them even if they moved. Once a boggart had a foot in the door, you were screwed, unless you had some serious magical mo-jo on your side. Or a Reaper. Most creatures, even those from the Seelie and Unseelie courts were shit-scared of us. Came from the fact that it didn’t matter what species you were, or what gods you prayed to, one day a Reaper would come for you.

“Spell?” I guessed. “Had to be. Only thing Boggarts are scared of are Morrigan-hounds and Reapers.”

He pulled the car to a stop and leaned back in the seat. “Now aren’t you a font of information. Those two exist? I thought they were just tales.”

Fuck yeah, we exist
. I kept that comment to myself and nodded. “Of course they do. Morrigan-hounds tend to be rare though, and you don’t want to tangle with them, or the Morrigan they belong to. As for Reapers…well, death’s all around, isn’t it?”

“Have you ever seen one?”

“Run into a couple. I usually try to avoid it.” I shrugged and opened the door. Before I stepped a foot on the ground, he was there, hand under my arm. Good job, as my legs were like damn jelly.

“Which one? Reapers or these Morrison hounds?” He swung me up into his arms again in an easy movement. Unbidden, I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, trying not to think how broad they were. Hell, fuck that. I wasn’t trying not to think about it, I was fricken’ reveling in it.

“Morrigan-hounds.” I corrected, tracing a finger along the seam of his shirt. Held close to his chest like this, I felt feminine and delicate, something that I hadn’t felt with a man since I took on the Grimm. It was…nice. And he was carrying me without breaking a sweat. At least, he didn’t look in imminent danger of collapse or running out of breath, which was great for my ego.

I wasn’t under any illusions about my figure. I was as fit as hell and could run down any Were if I needed to, but I still had more curves than I liked, and no amount of starving myself ever changed that. The only thing it did was make the Grimm complain. However much of a kick I got out of pissing the thing off, I liked my food to much to use a diet as a weapon.

“Where are we?”

His lips quirked, a slight flush on his cheeks, and bumped the gate in front of us open with his hip. “Well, the hospital was out. So where else could I bring you but home?”

His place. Hell
yeah
. Tonight was really looking up.

She was magical, for sure. Troy had never met a woman so captivating. She had to be magical, despite her claim that she wasn’t a siren. He didn’t believe that for a moment. Why else had he found himself sneaking glances at her all the way home? He’d struggled to keep his attention on the traffic. Every cell of his body seemed attuned to the petite woman nestled in the passenger seat like a compass needle to true north.

He’d known she was small from the glimpse he’d gotten of her in the bar, but he hadn’t realized quite how small until he’d seen her on the ground in the alley. His heart had skipped a beat, slamming against the inside of his ribs when that Were had stood over her. One slash of those vicious claws, and she’d be done for. Rage and fear had loaned wings to his heels as he and John had gone charging in. But where he would have chased down the Were himself, he’d let John do the running this time.

Instead of following him, Troy had been happy to play white knight to the damsel in distress, even going so far as to gather her up in his arms and carry her to the car. The memory of her curvy body resting against him sent a surge of heat through him so intense he had to check his skin hadn’t blistered and begun to peel off.

“Home. Cute.” She snorted and looked up at his house. It was small, but neat, nestled between two larger properties. He didn’t need big, just his own space, so it suited him to perfection. “Do I get the ‘come up and see my etchings’ line next?”

Her derisive comment made him grin. He’d never been into the cutesy, girl next door types. He liked his women with fire and sass. “Only if you like stick men. I can’t draw for shit.”

He turned the engine off and opened his door, sliding from the warm interior of the car to hurry around. But she scuppered his plans to be chivalrous. She already had the door open and was half out before he got there. The slight stumble clued him in that her balance was still off, so he scooped her up into his arms, ignoring her complaints. Anger bubbled up again as he caught sight of her face under the street lights. A darkening bruise decorated her cheek, and the corner of her lip was split and bleeding. Damn Were had gotten a couple in before he and John arrived, one hard enough to drop her to the floor.

If they hadn’t been in time… he suppressed a shudder. No, he wouldn’t think of that.

“You like grabbing women and carrying them around, huh?” She made a show of beating at his shoulders, a mock-scowl on her face, but he saw the laughter lurking in her eyes. An answering grin rose to his lips.

“Yeah, it appeals to the caveman in me.” He hip-bumped the door shut and headed up the path, triggering the remote lock on the car as he went. The street lit up in a flash of orange, illuminating the steps in front of him enough for him to make the front door. Pausing for a moment, he looked at her.

Amusement fled. Darkness and moonlight suited her. Shadows wrapped around her, lover-like, while the moonlight clung to her skin, highlighting her delicate features. That sense of otherness hit him again. Her fey-like beauty made him feel too big and brutish to even touch her. A pixie, she had to be. She was too short for a sidhe. All the books said they were tall and willowy, and she was way too short for that description.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her lips parted, the soft gasp of pleasure at such a simple compliment warming his heart through. Typical for what he’d noted about her, she shook her head. “You need glasses.”

“Uh-uh. Perfect vision.” He slid her down his body, the tension between them tightening so much that if a fly got between them, it would be fried.

She blushed, stepping away to put distance between them. His arms ached for her loss. “Then your momma dropped you on your head when you were a baby.”

He laughed and unlocked the door. Swinging it open, he swept an arm out to indicate she should precede him. He watched her, dark heat and anticipation swirling through his veins. Whatever she was, if she had any idea of his thoughts, what he wanted to do to her and her delectable body, she’d run for the hills.

“Come into the parlor, said the spider to the fly.”

Already through the door ahead of him, she shot a glance over her shoulder. The slow smile she gave him was wicked and hit him down low, his cock at instant attention. “Are you sure you’re the spider? Or the fly?”

A thrill shot along his spine, but didn’t dispel the arousal surging through his body. She could have been Shelob herself, and he wouldn’t care, but would happily go to his death, content with one touch of her lips.

Of course, he had far more plans than just one kiss…

***

“Oww! What are you trying to do? Dig for China?”

Troy, as I’d found out Regan’s first name was, sighed and lifted the dressing he was using to clean up the cut at the corner of my lips.

He was as gentle as a lamb, but since he’d made me wash my mouth out with salty water, I wasn’t feeling that charitable toward him. Not when said salty water had found and irrigated every cut on the inside of my cheek. Cuts I’d have been quite happy to ignore the existence of, I’d discovered that he nagged better than the Grimm did, and that was saying something.

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s a little cut.” He dabbed at the cut again, and I considered punching his lights out. “There, all better.” He smiled. “What were you thinking just then?”

“That it would be a pity to mess up your pretty face by busting your nose.” I’m blunt, always have been. It used to get me into hot water as a kid, these days…yeah, it still gets me into trouble.

He smirked and dropped the dressing in the bowl. “Pretty, huh? So you think I’m attractive.”

Great. I get the one guy in the world who isn’t up in arms about being called pretty, or by some chick threatening to break his nose.

“Maybe.”

I hedged the question, looking around the room instead of at him. The place was small, but neat. A comfortable, lived in place that bore no hint of femininity at all. If a woman, other than his mother, had been here in weeks, I’d have been very much surprised.

“But you have no idea what my criteria for attractiveness is. For all you know, I could be a Were-warthog and into….” Shit. What the hell
were
Were-warthogs into?

His strong fingers hooked around my jaw and pulled my head around, forcing me to meet his eyes. Amusement and something else, something darker and a hell of a lot hotter, danced within them. An answering flare turned the blood in my veins into a simmering, seething mass. The awareness that had stretched between us from that first look in the bar, and deepened with the little episode outside the door, blossomed as we sat there, gazing into each other’s eyes.

Yeah, sounds like a bad romance flick, doesn’t it? The kind of scene in a film I snigger at and start throwing popcorn at the screen, if I’m even watching something so soppy in the first place. I can count the number of such films on the fingers of one hand. I go for action films. Give me explosions and car chases and I’m a happy bunny. But now, in my own chick-flick moment, I was frozen in place.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you.” The words were whispered against my lips, soft puffs of air that turned them from mere sound to a tactile experience. My eyelids started to flutter shut without permission as all my senses focused on the distance between our lips.

Time stood still for a second before his mouth covered mine. Soft. Warm. Pliant. I’d expected a take charge attitude. A charge in there, demanding what he wanted sort of kiss. Instead, he caressed and teased, not drawing me closer, but letting me do all the running. Made me chase him to get more of what I needed.

I broke away. “Clever. Very clever.”

Somehow I’d ended up half in his lap, my fingers playing with the button at the open neck of his shirt. I popped it, watching the fabric part to reveal the hint of a hard-muscled chest. I couldn’t resist reaching out and stroking that little triangle of skin. He dropped his head back, eyes closed and pleasure written across his features. When he looked back at me, I was the one to shiver.

“My dad always told me that a good hunter chases, but a great hunter waits for the prey to come to him.” His voice was rough-edged, a deep note in it that hit me on a primal level. “I don’t know what you are, and frankly, I don’t care. All I know is that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He tightened his arms and I didn’t argue, letting him pull me onto his lap. Legs draped on either side of his hips, I held myself up over him and leaned in for another kiss. It was a warm, moist tangle of lips. The intoxicating brush of skin on skin. Soft, gentle kisses that did nothing to ease the building ache within me. But I liked it, liked his approach. Even though his body hummed with tension, he held himself still under me, only lifting his hands to drive them into my hair, then sliding his fingers through the strands.

I closed my eyes as he did it again, murmuring in pleasure at the sensation. I was being seduced with soft touches and patience. It was new. Unexpected. Nice.

“Beautiful.” His lips trailed down the soft skin of my throat, and I was lost. Shivering, I surrendered control, letting the pressure of his arm around the back of my hips pull me down until I was seated in his lap.

A whimper escaped as the long, hard bar of his cock pressed right where I needed it. My pussy clenched, need riding me hard. I hadn’t done this for…God, for months, but it felt more like years as every single day of abstinence ganged up on me and started to make demands.

Long fingers lifted my shirt, sliding under the fabric to explore the curves within. His fingertips left trails of fire in their wake. I gasped and wriggled against him. My clothes had shrunk. They were at least three sizes too small, irritating and scratchy.

I rocked my hips against the hardened length of his shaft, and was rewarded with a rough curse. Like a dam had been broken, he flipped me back onto the couch, leaning over me as he claimed my lips again.

This time he wasn’t gentle, or anywhere near as patient as before. Raw hunger dominated the kiss. Demanding and controlling all at once, stealing my breath and leaving fire running rampant through my veins in its wake. It was a kiss I wanted to go on forever, wallowing in the sheer carnal heat of it.

Breaking away, his breath was ragged as he leaned his forehead against my shoulder. Somehow my shirt had disappeared, leaving me clad in my bra and leather pants. A shiver rolled through me, but not from the cold.

“God, I swore to myself I’d take this slow.” He lifted his head, and the look on his face hit me right where it counted. Need, lust, awe, desire…everything a woman could want in a look from a man was there and more. “But I can’t. Are you sure you’re not a siren? I…it’s like you bewitched me.”

“Not a siren, not even close.” This time I didn’t laugh, just shook my head. Reapers were not known for their seductive manner. “I promise…this is all natural. All us.”

Relief flared in his eyes, a relief that was quickly swallowed up by darkness as he took his time looking at my body. Arching my back, I showed the girls off. Yeah, I might be a little on the curvy side, but that comes with its own advantages. Namely, tits to die for.

“I….” He didn’t get any further, his voice trailing off as I reached around and unsnapped the bra at the back. No need to beat about the bush. This was happening…
so
happening, because if it didn’t, I was going to die of sexual frustration on the damn spot.

A growl rumbled in his throat, a sound so feral that if I hadn’t seen his lifeline, I’d have pegged him for a Lycan. He braced himself on one forearm by my head, a hard kiss covering my lips. Hot, open mouthed kisses and soft nips. He made me chase him, and drove his tongue past my lips to ravage the softness within.

The kiss scrambled every thought process until I was operating on sheer instinct. My bra disappeared, cool air washing over the exposed skin and making me shiver. His hand closed over one breast, and I shivered for entirely different reasons.

A soft mewl rose in my throat, lost under his lips as he cupped me, rolling the nipple between his fingers before tweaking it—a gentle twist and pull, unexpected, but one that sent a charge from my nipple right to my pussy. He smiled, lips curving against mine, and did it again. My back came off the sofa, my breast pushing into his hand. Offering him more. Offering him everything.

He kissed me until I wasn’t sure which way was up. He broke away, leaving me dazed as he worked his way along the side of my neck and downward. Before I’d managed to collect my wits, wet suction closed around my nipple, and I gasped again. Oh god, that was fucking amazing.

Reaching up, I grabbed the arm of the sofa and held on as he laved attention on my breasts. His hands weren’t idle either. His fingers traced a delicate pattern over my stomach, making me suck my breath in when he reached my waistband. He teased me with quick flicks and long suckles on my tits as he dipped his fingertips under the waist of my pants.

Pleasure fought heat, which battled with need through every cell of my body. I wanted the torment to end, to rip both our clothes off and for him to bury his cock deep where we both needed it, but at the same time I needed to draw this out. The Grimm seemed to have taken a night off, so I wanted to savor it and relish the chance to be a normal person before it came back.

“More,” I demanded, hands rifling through the short strands of his dark hair. “More now.”