Chapter Eight
“Look who’s here early,” Mrs. Lowe remarked.
Nat looked over her shoulder to see Razor getting off his Harley. When he spotted her, he gave her a wave. She flashed him a smile and lifted her wrist to show him her watch. It was half an hour until closing time, and Nat still had a few chores to take care of. Razor understood and started down the street, probably to grab a cigarette or something.
“I take it things are going well between you and Razor?” Mrs. Lowe asked.
“They are,” she admitted. “I’m taking him out to dinner tonight with my first paycheck.”
“That’s generous of you, dear. I can tell he’s crazy about you,” Mrs. Lowe said.
Their conversation was cut short when a group of businessmen entered the café. They ended up ordering a large batch of coffee. While Nat and Mrs. Lowe busied themselves with the orders, her mind returned to her relationship with Razor.
Two weeks had passed since they first made love. Nat feared Razor would show signs of getting sick of her. He never did. In fact, the heat between them took on a fever pitch. They couldn’t get enough of each other. Once their last orders had been filled, Mrs. Lowe breathed a sigh of relief.
“Nat, why don’t you go on ahead? I’ll lock up here,” Mrs. Lowe said.
Nat followed her gaze and found Razor smoking outside. He faced the street and seemed to be studying his surroundings.
“Are you sure?” she asked the old woman. “I don’t mind helping out. It won’t take long.”
Mrs. Lowe shook her head firmly. “Go on, dear. You deserve a break.”
“All right then,” Nat said. She grabbed her coat and purse, then exited the café. She stood next to Razor. He didn’t even notice she was there until she touched his arm.
He relaxed when he saw her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Nothing, just looking around,” Razor said.
“I figured it was something like that. Razor, Vulture and the Black Dogs haven’t tried to go after me. It’s already been two weeks. Nothing’s going to happen,” she said.
“It never hurts to be prepared.” Razor finally turned to her. He placed two fingers under her chin, then took her mouth, the kiss rough and with bite. Anticipation kindled inside her as he thrust his tongue down her throat. Nat rubbed herself against him. Razor grunted, releasing her.
“You’re killing me, baby. Keep doing that, and I’ll strap you to my bike and take you back to the clubhouse. Then I’ll ravish you all night long,” he murmured against her ear.
She shivered in pleasure. Excitement hummed in her veins. Razor knew a dozen ways to make her body sing.
“Normally, I wouldn’t mind that, but tonight, we’re celebrating,” she reminded him.
“That’s right. My woman’s buying me dinner. I can’t say no to that,” he said, resting his palm against the curve of her cheek. Razor studied her for a few moments before he curved his lips to a smile. “You’re really something, you know that?”
“What do you mean?” she asked him.
“The first thing you decide to do with your paycheck is treat your man,” he said.
“You’re worth it,” she said.
“Come on,” Razor said. “I can’t wait for the steak dinner you promised.”
They got on his Harley. Razor took them to Mickey’s Steak and Grill, the best and only restaurant in town that served steak. Nat had booked a reservation three days ago, so a waitress immediately seated them.
“How was your day?” she asked him after they placed their orders.
Nat knew Razor had been in charge of a crew that made two delivery jobs today. They traveled to two far-flung towns as well, meaning Razor had been on the road the whole day. He must be tired, and yet he seemed to be on his best behavior around her tonight.
She didn’t miss the fact that several of the locals in the restaurant gave them wide berth. She wasn’t surprised. The Ruthless Reapers MC didn’t exactly have a stellar reputation in town, although these folks owed Razor and his club thanks for keeping the peace.