Chapter Ten

If Razor hadn’t been busy holding his nuts in one hand and his cigarette in his mouth with the other, he might have actually demanded she take a step back. Though, he’d much rather lean down and kiss that cussing mouth of hers. And that barely there accent. He’d only heard it a handful of times, but hearing it now told him just how upset she was. Maybe he should kiss her.

Not the time, you idiot.

She was shoving at him and he was allowing it, because if he wanted, he knew he could easily break her hold on him, twist her around, and have her eating grime off the walls before she could take her next breath. But he wouldn’t do that. He was a sick fuck like that, and he was enjoying her right where she was. On him. In his personal space. Even if she was spewing profanities all over him.

However, he wasn’t dumb enough to voice that out loud. Sasha had proven just how deadly she could be, and with how angry she currently was over whatever he’d fucked up for her, he had no doubt she could do some serious damage.

“I can’t fucking believe this. You motherfucker.” She hissed, pushing him against the wall again.

Again, he let her. Razor acknowledged that he had obviously screwed up, so he probably deserved her anger. Once she calmed down, they could sort it all out.

Nonetheless, that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling every single one of her hits. Fucking ouch.

She packed some serious power. He just wished it was being used on him for a completely different reason. Her nails were digging into his chest—even through his T-shirt—and it was making him tingle in certain places. Another thing he wouldn’t dare voice. So he kept his mouth shut and didn’t add any more fuel to her fire.

“Fuck!” She fisted his shirt tighter, her breathing ragged.

He wanted to say something, but then that new awareness of her—the one he had been trying hard to ignore—rushed over him. It made his breath hitch. The feeling was deep enough that even his Hellhound side perked up, recognized something that Razor was probably too hardheaded to grasp. But Goddess help him, he just had no idea what to make of it.

“What happened? Say something, you asshole!”

That was enough to get his brain back on track. Flicking his smoke away, he decided that at this point, anything he said wouldn’t make a difference. He’d fucked up; he’d already admitted that to Locke, though he wasn’t entirely certain how yet, so he’d take responsibility. Because it was obviously in some terrible way for her to be this furious at him.

“All right, pretty girl. Why don’t we just talk, okay?” he said evenly, trying to pull her hands away from his shirt. Some of the smoke from his mouth must have reached her because her nose scrunched up.

She pushed him even harder against the wall. “Do you even know what you just did?”

Impatience sparked to life. Since it didn’t look like she was letting him go anytime soon, Razor relaxed his body, attempting to remain cordial. But he couldn’t stop his growing irritation from leaking through his next words. “Locke has been pretty vague, as are you. But he did said something about Salvaes and soul saving, or something. I’m really fucking sorry, Sasha. My bad.”

Yes, it would have been easy to apologize in a more sincere way, and yes, it was a dick move to sound like he couldn’t care less, but being yelled at over something he had no idea about was starting to rub him the wrong way. He was an easygoing guy, but this was pushing it. But also, as was usually the case with her, every time they got into it, he really couldn’t help himself. At fault or not, goading her was almost like his go-to reaction. It was either that, or blatantly tell her how much he wanted her. Either would probably earn him another broken nose.

“Your bad?” she snarled, her accent thicker. “How could you not have known this one was off limits? You supposedly fucking rule Shadow Realm.”

His mood soured further, and his patience came to an end. He felt a muscle tick in his jaw.

“I do rule this land,” he said, his tone no longer friendly. “But you seem to keep forgetting it.”

He suddenly wished Sasha would take a shot at him, because he was heading straight into a dark mood, and if they both didn’t stop, there would be consequences they both wouldn’t like. She didn’t, of course, and only glared harder, more defiantly, at him.

He reached up and gripped her wrists, prying her hands away from his shirt and holding her firmly. Not enough to hurt, not yet. He would never injure her, but he needed to make her understand that she was getting close to crossing the line between friendly quarreling over a disagreement and blatant disrespect.

“Don’t touch me,” she spat, trying—albeit, with little success—to pull her wrists free. “You don’t understand what you’ve just cost me.”

Catching the panicked tone in her voice, Razor took a calming breath and loosened his grip on her wrists. She was right, he didn’t understand. “Then explain it to me.”

Neither she nor Locke looked inclined to enlighten him, so maybe he actually had to ask for an explanation in order to stop the verbal lashing and get some answers instead.

Razor allowed her to pull her wrists free.

She scoffed. “As if someone like you would understand.”

“Someone…like me?” He knew his voice was near a growl, but she was now past disrespect and veering into dangerous territory, and at super speed.

“If you rule Shadow Realm, then you should know what the fuck is going on in your land. You should have known he was off limits. You are a pathetic ‘judge. ’”

He saw red, baring his fangs at her in a snarl. Razor prided himself in being the best at what he did, but it seemed that he’d been off his game lately. She’d nailed the shot, almost as if she had known those words would hit him right where it hurt the most.

Sasha had to know she was being unreasonable and obtuse.

“Well, shit, I must have missed the Reaper Newsletter,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tell me, little Reaper, how was I to know that this bastard was important to you in some way? Because you and your Reaper buddies are so good at sharing information, and trust me, I don’t doubt for a minute that there’s a lot you’re not telling us about these missing souls. Oh wait, I got it. Was I supposed to just know he was off limits? I’m a lot of things, Sasha, but psychic isn’t one of them. Had I known he was someone to you, I would have gone about this a different way.”

Sasha snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re such a fucking liar.”

In two moves, he had her twisted around, her back to his chest and her hands behind her back. Her gasp told him he had caught her off guard.

He growled against her ear. “This is the last time I’m going to be nice about this, Sasha. Because I like the three of you Reapers, I will give you a last warning about your fucking disrespect. I said I didn’t know about your Salvae, and I meant it. Don’t ever question my word again, or you and I will have bigger problems than this anger you seem to have towards me.”

“Razor,” Locke said warningly, taking a step towards them.

Razor’s gaze shot to the blond Reaper. “Stay the fuck out of this, Locke. I’ve seen her fight and handle a gun; she doesn’t need your help. Do not come any closer.”

He tightened his hold on Sasha as if she were prey, snarling at the other man. Locke bared his teeth, but otherwise stayed put. Good call.

Although his gaze remained on the other man, his attention returned to Sasha. He fought the sudden temptation to lick her in front of Locke. Another thing that didn’t make any sense.

Taking a few calming breaths before speaking, Razor said to her, “Don’t make working with you harder than it already is.”

He was so close he could smell the scent of her hair and skin; something fresh and coconuty. He almost moaned. Underneath that, her base scent called to him—thunderstorms by the beach. Razor’s chest rumbled with a desire for her that was so strong, he was sure he was shaking from the restraint it took to keep himself in check.

The Hellhound side of him was demanding he lean down and swipe up that fragrance straight from her throat—to take her essence into himself. But he held back, the other part of him reminding him what a huge mistake that would be.

And then something in the air between them changed. The softest moan from Sasha reached his ears, combined with a very subtle press of her ass against him, and his Hellhound side won out. Before he could think better of it, he responded to her unexpected reaction.

In a swift movement, his nose was pressed to her skin and his body was cocooning itself over hers, a quiet rumbling of pleasure coming from his chest.

Then he touched his tongue to Sasha’s pulse point.

Fuck.

Big mistake. Her taste exploded on his tongue, melting deliciously, his entire body sparking to life.

More.

With everything he had, even as Sasha shivered, her ass pushing back against him, he fought the urge to drag his entire tongue down her neck for more of her taste. For several heartbeats he struggled to remember why he shouldn’t. Then his brain helped by sending a very loud Danger! Danger!

The warning snapped him back into focus, thank fuck. Still, he had to forcefully pull his head away from her. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she might have whimpered in protest.

Razor swallowed as he regained his composure.

“You’ve been warned,” he said, his voice coming out as unsteady as he felt.

Backing away slowly, his body almost reluctant to leave his woman—

Oh no, no, no. Not yours. Not yours. Not. Yours.

His eyes on Locke, Razor spun just as soon as he was out of the alley and speed walked his ass out of there.