“What’s that?”
“Death,” she says, then sits up.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rochelle
Marcus looks at me as if he can’t work out my words. Neither can I, but he doesn’t need to know that. I understand only a fraction of why he’s in my life, and why my pull to him is so intense.
He’s the epitome of death—he works with it, and he lives in it. I had never been around or experienced something like that until that day I met him. I needed him, and that scares me.
“Death,” he says, stepping closer. He offers me his hand and I take it. “They don’t call me Reap for nothing.” Marcus pulls me up and slams my body into his front. “Most women want me because they want the fear attached to me. They think it gives them something, being with someone who they can’t contain or keep a hold on.” His hazel eyes glisten as he stares at me. “You want me for me. I like that about you.”
“You do?”
“I do,” he says.
“You still scare me. That part of you…” I point in the direction of the crematorium, “… I hate.”
“You don’t need to like what I do. You simply need to like me. Isn’t that the healthy thing to say in a relationship?”
I smirk at his words. “Relationship?”
“I’m fucking you. You’re fucking me. This is what this is, right?”
Marcus’ words make me pause. “I guess you’re right.”
“So how about we go back to mine and fuck?”
“Just what every girl wants to hear. You’re such a romantic,” I murmur against his lips as he kisses me.
Hands skim my body and claim me in places only he knows how I like to be touched. I moan as his hot lips connect with mine, while he slides in and out of me. I wonder if I will ever get sick of his touch, or ever not crave it as much as I do right now.
When he touches me, he brings anything but death. He brings fireworks that blow up so bright I can feel them wanting to escape into the darkened skies.
I’m falling in love with death.
I’m falling in love with Reap.
And I’m falling in love with Marcus.
I don’t think he feels the same, though.
To him, I’m just someone who’s here. Someone he likes to play with. I’m his new fascination. He hasn’t ruined me yet, as he promised all those months ago. But I feel if I stay on this path we’re on, he just may completely destroy me.
Marcus pushes my hair back and touches me with affection. He’s always fucked me, and I never complain because I enjoy fucking him. But I can feel the shift, taste it, with each soulful kiss he gives me.
It’s not just a sampling anymore.
It’s more like a devouring.
My fingers thread through his, and I grip onto him for dear life as I come.
He kisses me harder, and soon my hands drop to the bed while he finishes.
Marcus’ body is now on mine, our breaths heavy and our worry is slightly less.
Until.
“This won’t be a long-term thing. You know that, right?”
Ruined.
He’s ruined the moment.
“Why?” I question.
He pushes off of me and lays next to me, his hand touching mine ever so lightly that I want to reach out and grab it. Instead, I lay still. Perfectly still. Waiting for his answer.
“It’s a right-now thing. And right now, we meet each other’s needs, and I’m not going to lie and say you’re like all the other girls, because we both know you’re not. You are different, to me.”
“Oh, how profound,” I say with an eye roll while sitting up. “It’s a rollercoaster of I want you, and then I can’t have you.” I reach for my outfit and he grips it, stopping me from putting it on.
“You want kids, am I wrong?”
I freeze at his words. “Yes, I do.”
“This is why it’s not long-term, pretty girl. I can’t have kids.” I gasp at his words and turn to look at him. He lets go of my clothes and sits on the bed naked, the sheet not covering him.
“Do you mean you don’t want kids, or you can’t have kids?” I ask, not sure what I’ve just heard. Before he can answer, my cell starts ringing. I look to it and see Tanika’s name flashing. Usually, I wouldn’t answer, but with the way she’s been, I can’t not.
“Hello.”
Marcus looks at me, waiting.
“Roch, I need you to come.”
“What?” I stand, trying to pull my clothes on as I listen to her.
“I need you to come. Please, come.”
“Okay, okay, where are you? Tell me where you are.”
I hear her gasping for breath.
“I’m on the town bridge. You need to come, Roch.”
“I’m coming.” Grabbing my keys, I run. My boob is hanging out, and I’m not fully dressed, but as I get in the car, it’s the last thing I think of as I drive.