by Boone Brux
“Why would you be a disappointment?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I don’t look, act, or talk like my family. My dad wasn’t from around here. But most of all, I’m not a Shifter.”
“Trust me, that’s not something to be ashamed of.”
The very idea that he might not care if I wasn’t a Shifter sent a surge of happy warmth through me. Around here, one’s pack, or pod, or pride, or gaggle, or whatever a person belonged to trumped everything, and Jax was from one of the most powerful clans. Him not believing that being a Shifter made the man was damn near unbelievable. “Seriously?” Lifting my brows in question, I asked, “How would your family have treated you if you’d been born human?”
He grunted. “I see what you mean.” His slow stride brought him to the cell. He stopped a few inches away. “So, tell me, what does define you, Poppy Carlyle?” His index finger stroked my knuckles. “What makes you, you?”
The gentle caress of his finger made it difficult to concentrate. As much as I wanted him to keep touching me, I lowered my hand away and leaned closer to the bars, a humorless smile curling my lips. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
He laughed. I didn’t. “You’re joking…right?”
“Am I?”
More than anything, I wanted to tell him about being a grim reaper. It would be so nice to share that part of my life with somebody, and since Jax had taken on the role of law enforcer here, we might be able to help each other.
“You keep talking in riddles.” Pressing his shoulder against the cell door, he stared at me. “And you said I wouldn’t believe you if you told me, which means there’s something about you I don’t know.”
I gave him a tight smile as my silent confirmation.
“What if I guess what you are?” he asked.
“An unfeminine snort erupted from me, and I stepped back, holding my hands out. “Give it a shot.” There was no way he’d ever guess. Not in a million years. “If you get it, I’ll tell you.”
“Promise?”
“Double-dog promise.” I braced my arms against the horizontal bar running across the door. “Go on.”
“You’re human.”
“Come on, at least give it an honest try.” Drumming my fingers on the metal and pursing my lips, I stared at him. “Or we can stop.”
“No, no.” He waved his hand at me. “I can do this.” He pivoted and took a few steps to the right, stopped, and spun toward me again. “How many guesses do I get?”
He seemed genuinely excited about figuring out what my secret was, and I didn’t have the heart to crush his high. “What the hell? As many as you want.” Grabbing the chair, I hauled it to the door. “This could take a while, so I’m going to sit.”
Pacing in front of the jail cell, he watched me, his eyes narrowed. “Witch?”
“No.”
“I already know you’re not a Shifter of any kind.” His steps faltered. “Right?”
“Not a Shifter of any kind.” I crossed my legs and locked my hands on my lap. I could think of worse ways to spend my time than watching Jax. His biceps strained against the sleeves of his navy-blue t-shirt, and his skin had tanned a golden bronze. But I think the dusting of five o’clock shadow was what I found so sexy. It made him look a little untamed and dangerous. I could use a little danger like him in my life. “Next guess.”
“Fae?”
“Nope.”
“Succubus?”
“You wish.”
He stopped at the door and grasped the bars. His gaze drifted over me, lingering a few seconds longer on my breasts before lifting to my face. “Angel?”
The word purred from him and at that moment, I truly wanted to be the kind of angel he envisioned. But I wasn’t. My top lip gnawed my bottom. “Be more specific.”
A look of confusion flashed across his face, and he took a step backward. His gaze turned hard and assessing. I could almost hear the cogs clicking away inside his head, trying to figure out another kind of angel that existed besides the bright, shiny, ethereal ones. After a long pause, he said, “Snow angel?”
That made me smile. “In West Virginia?”
“Okay.” He stepped to the bars again. “Cherubim?”
“Nope.”
“Seraphim?”
“Colder.”
“Please tell me you’re not an archangel,” he said, shaking his head.
“What’s wrong with being an archangel?”
“Wait!” He jumped back. “You’re an archangel?”
“No.” Uncrossing my legs, I sat forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “I was just curious why you didn’t like them.”
“I do like them. They’re just a little intimidating is all.” He smiled. “That’s what I’ve heard. Anyway, what other kind of angel is there?”
I shrugged.
“Not even a hint?” he asked.
“Only if you let me out of here.” I stood and walked to the cell door. “Then I might tell you. Maybe. If you’re nice.”
He dug in his pocket and pulled out the key. “Or you could tell me over dinner.”
“You want me to cook and tell you my secret?” I pursed my lips and leaned closer. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“It might help me decide whether to press charges or not.” Dangling the keys over my hand, he let the cool metal caress my skin. Then he lowered the ring to the lock and shoved the key in, turning it. The door swung open, and he stepped inside the cell, stopping inches from me. “You know what they say. A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
My breath hitched, and I found it hard to breathe. Jax was dead sexy, which meant something coming from me. “Maybe your heart wasn’t what I planned on getting to.”
“Even better. I’ll see you at seven.”
Desire swept through every cell of my body, setting me on fire. If I didn’t leave now, I wouldn’t leave at all. Thankfully, I still had enough rational thought to know I did not want my first romantic encounter with Jax to be on a hard cot. “Perfect.” Lifting my chin, I strode past him and to the desk. I snatched up my phone, and without looking at him, said, “See you at seven.”
He didn’t reply, but I could feel his gaze on me all the way out the door, and as I crossed the street. Even after closing my apartment door and locking it, I could feel him like a physical part of me. That had never happened with any other man, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. It felt as if Jax saw straight into my psyche. As if he could strip me bare and see everything I had to hide.
A shudder of excitement rippled through me at the thought of him stripping me bare. I pushed away from the door. I had eight hours to get my sexy on, and nothing in hell or on earth was going to stop me from seducing him tonight.
Chapter Six
I crouched in front of the oven and smiled. Gravy bubbled out the top of the golden crust, for the second time, the chicken pot pie looked perfect. As did the lemon meringue pie, salad, and sweet tea I’d made. Everything had come out perfectly. If food truly was the way to a man’s heart, Jax was about to fall in love.
Straightening, I swiped my hand across my forehead. The evening was warm, and the zillion fans I had blasting through the apartment barely held the heat at bay. It did give me a reason to wear my favorite and skimpiest blue tank dress.
A knock sounded on the front door. My heartbeat quickened, and I blew out a breath, trying to slow the adrenaline coursing through me. In bare feet, I padded across the apartment and stopped in front of the full-length mirror. With a quick turn left and right, I assessed myself. Good enough. Holding my hands out in front of me, as if that would stop my nerves from racing, I inhaled, smiled, and then opened the door.
Wow!
The breath I just took rushed from me. No man should look this good. At least the one that did was standing at my door, wanting to come in. “Hi.”
“Hi.” His voice poured over me like warm honey, reaching all the way to my pink painted toes and making them curl. Holding my gaze
, he stepped forward and settled his hand on my waist. “You look beautiful.” First his lips grazed my ear, then brushed my cheek. “And something smells great.”
I didn’t know if he meant me or the pot pie, but it didn’t matter when his fingers tightened on my waist. If I turned my head, surely, we’d kiss. Would that be so bad? No, but I didn’t want him to think I was loose like Jenny Wheeler. When we were in sixth grade, she used to let the boys see her underwear for a quarter. I’d heard the price had leaped to twenty bucks, and she’d show you a lot more than her undies now.
“Thank you.” Keeping Jenny’s shining example in mind, I stepped to the side. “Come on in.”
“I was going to bring a bottle of wine, but I didn’t know if you drank,” he said, stepping into my apartment. “So, I brought you these instead.” He held out a brown paper bag. “I got them when I was in Georgia.”
“What are they?” I took the gift from him and peered inside. “Peaches. My favorite.” The man had tapped into my weakness. After pulling out the orange globe, I brought it to my nose and sniffed. “It smells so good.” I set the fruit on the table and hugged him. “I’ll make a pie and bring a piece.”
His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me close. In an instant, I realized my mistake. My body molded to his. He felt so good. His other hand drifted over my lower back and settled just north of my butt cheek. This was trouble. Everything about Jax turned me on, and if I stood like this much longer, it would take an act of God to get me off him.
Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I pushed back. As my mouth came even with his, he cupped my cheek with his hand and turned my face toward his. “It’s taking all my strength to behave,” he whispered.
“Thank you.” My answer rasped out and sounded more like a question than a statement. “Dinner is ready.”
He let his hands drift across my body as I stepped back, but his eyes were intense. I’m not sure how I managed it, but I pivoted and strolled into the kitchen. Without looking, I knew he was behind me. I didn’t turn around. Couldn’t turn around, or I’d be all over him. First, food. I was a southern lady after all. What happened after that I couldn’t be responsible for.
Shut off the oven. I reached up and pushed cancel. The stove beeped and flashed back to the time. Take out pie. After shoving oven mitts on my hands, I pulled open the door. Heat blasted my face, but I didn’t falter from my task. I needed to get this food on the table, and then get him naked. I slid the pot pie onto the butcher block and flopped the oven mitts next to it.
“We should let it sit for five minutes and then we can dish up.”
His gray-green eyes drilled into mine. “Five minutes?”
“Yeah.” All the saliva in my mouth dried up. I swallowed hard and nodded. “The chicken will be juicier.”
Jax drifted around the island and placed his hands on my hips. “What should we do while we wait?”
Seriously? How was a girl supposed to resist when temptation was literally staring me in the face? “I don’t know. What do you want to—”
Jax swept forward, cutting off my answer. It took a nanosecond for me to respond. I threw my arms around his neck and opened my mouth, inviting him in. He accepted. His tongue swept along mine and his hands held my head steady as he assaulted my mouth. I latched onto his hair and dragged him closer, if that was possible. To hell with dinner. I needed more of him.
He pulled his mouth from mine. “I’m not hungry.”
“Me either,” I panted, before smashing my mouth back on his.
With grace, Jax swept me into his arms and carried me into the bedroom, our lips still locked. When he lowered me onto the bed, he followed me down and settled his weight on top of me. It felt glorious. My body hummed with pleasure, and when his hand glided over my breast, cupping me, I arched into him.
Our lips claimed each other over and over, while our hands explored each other’s bodies. Heat radiated off his skin as my hands roamed over his taut, muscular back. I couldn’t get enough of him. It was a sensation I’d never experienced before.
He tugged at the hem of my dress, bringing it above my thighs and freeing my legs. A low growl rumbled from him when he hooked his arm under my knee and hiked up my leg, allowing him to press fully against me. Sweet Aunt Petunia, this was better than my teenage fantasies could have ever been. I scraped my fingernails lightly down his back and then palmed his perfect ass, pulling him more tightly into the juncture of my thighs. His erection pressed into me, eliciting a hum of pleasure.
Breaking contact with my mouth, he lifted onto one elbow and looked down at me. His eyes darkened as his pupils dilated, watching me like a predator watches their prey. I couldn’t look away. Never had a man made me feel so desired and feminine. Rocking his body back and forth, he rubbed against me. My breath caught with each upward press, and sparks of pleasure fanned to life deep inside me. As much as I wanted to close my eyes and ride the ride to the end, I couldn’t tear my gaze from his.
“We have too many clothes on,” he growled.
“Agreed,” I rasped, but I didn’t release him.
A second later, his pocket buzzed, vibrating against my hand. He reached around and pulled out his phone. “Damn.”
I tightened my thighs around him, pushing him against me again. “Who is it?”
“My dad.” The phone buzzed again.
I arched my back and gripped his ass. “Don’t answer it.”
Growling, he tossed the phone onto the bed beside us and reclaimed my mouth. Just when his went silent, Chopin’s Death March wailed to life from my phone on the bedside table. Jax lifted his head. “Ignore it.” He lowered his head to my breast, speaking against my tightening nipple. “Let them wait.”
I’d never put Sharon off before. Reaping was a time-sensitive task, but Lord help me, I couldn’t find the strength to push Jax off me. Threading my fingers through his hair, I arched into his mouth. “Good idea.”
After a minute the Death March stopped, but immediately his phone started buzzing again next to us. He rumbled against my chest and turned his head. “My dad has the most inconvenient timing.”
“Ignore—” Chopin blared to life a second time. “What the hell is going on?”
He rolled off me, grabbing his phone as he turned, and sat up, tossing his legs over the side, giving me his back. I crawled across the rumpled comforter and hopped off the bed, scooping up my phone.
“Hey, dad, what’s up?” Jax wound his arm around my waist and pulled me to him. “Uh huh.”
This was going to be tricky. I accepted the call. “Hey, Sharon.”
“They’re at it again,” she said on the other end of the line.
Jax’s hand ran up the inside of my thigh, stopping just short of pleasure town. With each brush of his fingers, concentrating became more difficult. “Who?”
“That honey badger poltergeists.” She paused. “Are you okay? You sound like you’re out of breath.”
“I’m fine.” Pushing out of his hold, I held up a finger, indicating one minute. Jax nodded. “Couldn’t find my phone because I had it on silent,” I lied.
“I hate when I do that. Anyway, get out there as soon as you can, before they kill somebody.”
As soon as I could was a relative term. Interpretations were left up to the listener, me. “I’ll get there ASAP.”
“Good girl. Give me a report when you’re finished.”
“Will do.” I clicked off the call and headed for the bedroom. Jax met me at the doorway.
“I’m really, really sorry, but I have to go.” He pulled me to him and kissed me long and deep. After several panty-dropping seconds, he lifted his head. “The troublemakers are back on the compound, which…” He brushed a tendril of hair behind my ear. “Is good news for you since you have an ironclad alibi.”
“Yeah, good news.” I stepped out of his hold. “I need to go with you.”
The sexy set of his mouth turned downward into a frown, and his eyes narrowed on me. “Why?” He cl
osed the distance between us and gently grasped my upper arms. “Is your family doing this?”
“No.” I got how he’d think that, but I’d told him before they had nothing to do with the disturbances. A part of me wished he took my word at face value. It was an unrealistic wish. I knew that, but trying to explain my way through this was going to create a confusing mess. I could feel it all the way down to the tip of my scythe. “You won’t find my family there. Actually…” I hesitated and then charged forward. “You won’t find anybody there.”
“What are you saying?” He fisted his hands on his hips. “You know who’s doing this?”
“Yeah, but you’re not going to believe me.”
“Try me.” His gorgeous gaze didn’t waver.
“Fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest, tipped my chin down, and matched his stare. “They’re poltergeists.”
His stern expression softened to confusion. “What?”
“Actually, they’re ghosts, but somehow they’ve harnessed the power to shift back and forth. When they’re ghosts, they can’t do anything, but when they’re poltergeists, they knock stuff around. Or, like last night, light a stick of dynamite and blow up your grandfather’s truck.”
“You expect me to believe poltergeists are causing the problems?”
“No, that’s why I’m going with you.”
He held up his hand. “I’m completely confused. Why would you need to come with me?”
Here we go. I inhaled. “Because I am the only one who can see and dispatch the ghosts.” The next statement didn’t want to come out, fear of Jax’s reaction nearly paralyzing me. More than anything, I wanted him to be different. I wanted him to believe me. To not think I was crazy. “I’m a grim reaper, and my specialty is paranormal beings.”
Lifting his hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes. “Let me get this straight, ghosts blew up the truck last night?”
“Yes.”
“And the reason you were there is that you’re a grim reaper for paranormal beings?”
“I’m the only reaper for the region. I work for Grim Reaper Services.” It seemed logical when I thought about my job, but hearing it was quite a different story.