Excerpt from The Reaper’s Valentine by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Copyright © Charlotte Boyett-Compo, 2015

Cree chuckled as he leaned back in the desk chair with his hands cupping the back of his head and his legs crossed at the ankles as he braced his bare feet on the desktop. He wiggled his toes and chuckled again. She was giving him quite the show. He’d been watching her for the last hour—making note of every angry hiss, loud sigh, raging glance at the camera, and foot stomp. Once or twice, she’d flipped him the bird and when she did the sneer that came from her beautiful mouth amused him even more.

And what a mouth it was! He wished he could see those luscious full coral lips but her face was hidden behind the pillow as she growled into the fabric. He wondered just how mad she’d be if she knew there was a camera in her bedroom, too. Not in the bathing chamber but one hidden in the heat register across from her bed. It shouldn’t be there but he’d crawled through the ductwork himself to place it there half an hour earlier when she’d exhausted herself trying to get out of the apartment. She’d called him every vile name in the book until she realized she was good and caught. Watching her drum her heels into the mattress told him she’d be very mad when she found out about that camera.

He wondered if she was going to fight him when he appeared in her bedroom later that evening.

“Oh, yeah,” he said then grinned wickedly, looking forward to it. He wanted her to fight him. He wanted to feel her squirming in his arms until he kissed her and drained away any sign of resistance.

That was the way it was between life-mates. Morrigunia, the Triune goddess, put them together for a reason. She had created them expressly for one another and there would be no denying what was inevitable. They were born to be two halves that would make a very strong whole. They completed one another and where one went, the other would go.

Even into death.

He cocked his eyebrows when she threw aside the pillow and sat up, bracing herself on her elbows. She seemed to be staring straight at the camera as though she knew it was there. Her stare was so intense he realized she had somehow discovered it. Her slow, evil sneer was all the proof he needed.

“Here we go,” he said softly.

“You want to play Peeping Tom, dickdrip?” she asked as she sat all the way up. “Okay, I’ll give your perverted ass something to peep at!”

As soon as her hands went to the snaps of her pj top, he uncrossed his legs and dropped them from the desk. He sat forward with his elbows replacing his heels on the desktop to stare intently at the vid-screen before him. He licked his lips as the first snap came undone and he saw a V of soft feminine flesh behind the opening. Threading his fingers together to keep them still, he felt his cock jerk when the second snap came undone.

Her full attention was riveted on the vent. Though there was no expression on her lovely face, there was retaliatory fire in her green eyes. Even from his apartment a sub-level away he felt the heat from that glare. It made his groin tighten.

A third snap and the flash of the soft mound of her left breast appeared. His mouth flooded with moisture. His fangs tingled. He swallowed hard as the fourth snap parted the material even more and the valley between her breasts came into view.

“Sweet Merciful Alel,” he whispered as he waited for the last snap to come undone but she stopped, lifted her chin and the slow, nasty smile that pulled at her full lips made him catch his breath.

Instead of popping that last snap, she slid her right hand behind the camouflage of the pj top to cup her left breast. He could see her hand moving under the material and knew she was fondling that lush mound. Her smile disappeared as her lips parted. The wet tip of her tongue thrust slowly from between her lips to curl enticingly over the bottom one before she pulled it back in. She winked.

“Woman, you are playing with fire,” he said to the screen—as unable to tear his attention away from it as to stop his heart from pounding in his chest or the sweat from forming on his brow.

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