Page 31 of Down & Dirty: Reaper
“You got into me. And you’re about to do it again. I’m a sure thing, Devil Dog, stop delaying.”
After unlacing his boots and yanking them off, he ripped his shirt over his head and threw it right in Vi’s face before unbuckling his belt, unfastening his pants, and dropping them and his boxer briefs to the floor at his feet.
“Finally,” she whispered, taking in every damn inch of him.
“Was it worth the wait?”
She raked her gaze down from the top of his tightly trimmed dark hair all the way to his toes.
The man had some damn nice feet, too. Did this man not have any faults?
He had to have some red flags somewhere. But as long as he continued to be good at his job, as well as in bed, the rest she didn’t give a shit about at this point. He was welcome to keep any skeletons buried deep in his closet.
When she really thought about it, was he any different than a serial killer? Other than the fact he was taking out criminals instead of innocent victims. Whether he was or wasn’t, she grew up around men—and women—who had no problem taking a life if warranted.
If it came down to it, she’d also easily take a life to save her family. And by family, that included all of the DAMC.
She shrugged since Reaper was waiting for her answer on whether viewing his body was worth waiting for. “Meh. Trolls are cute as collectible dolls. As men? Not so much.”
“Damn,” he whispered. Despite keeping a blank expression, the corners of his eyes crinkled.
The man had an unexpected great sense of humor, too. “Need to keep you humble.”
“That was more like a kick in the nuts. Since I’m such a turnoff, I should get dressed before you sear your retinas.” He reached down to snag his clothes.
Of course she stopped him by yanking on his arm. “My vision will recover. Let’s keep going.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to have nightmares afterward. You might have to endure years of therapy.”
“If anyone was going to cause me to go to therapy, it would’ve been my father. Somehow I turned out all right.”
“Debatable.”
When she laughed, he stared at her, the amusement long gone. Instead heat had returned to his never-misses-a-thing eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Not a damn thing.” With that he drove a hand into her hair, messing up her already messy ponytail even worse. “Fuck it,” he grumbled, sliding the elastic band free and fanning her hair out over her shoulders. “Been wanting to see that for the longest fucking time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and after the other night, I didn’t want to see it only hanging down your back but spread out over my pillow.”
“Looks like you may get your wish.”
“Hell yeah I will.”
“I had hoped we’d use a bed tonight.” And to see him naked. Those two wishes were about to come to fruition.
“Clearly that’s next on the agenda.”
“Oh, what else is on this agenda?”
“Orgasms. Lots of them.” His voice was so deeply guttural, it caused her insides to shimmy and shake.
She never wanted a man as much as she wanted the one standing before her naked. It wasn’t even close.
She liked everything about him.
