“You’re mine now,” he continued, rubbing his nose along my cheekbone. Then he pulled back, catching my gaze again. “A lot’s gone down, but right now the critical information is that you belong to me. You’re my property. You don’t understand what that means, and that’s okay. I’ll teach you. But when you look back at this moment, I want you to remember there was a before I claimed you and an after. Now it’s after. You got me?”
I’d never gotten anyone less. I swallowed, then bit my own lip. Not to be coy, but to wake myself up, because this dream was getting less sexy and more scary. Ouch. Okay, that should do it . . . Staring at him, I realized he was still in front of me. This was real.
“What about your girlfriend?”
“First, Talia has never been my girlfriend—that bitch is nothing. My club sent me here to check on the Nighthawks, and she was the easiest way to get inside. Fucking her was like fucking a praying mantis. She’s gone, or she will be soon. Either way, I’m done with her.”
I frowned, shaking my head because that was a nasty, nasty thing to say. Just hearing it sent a thrill through me, though, because apparently I’m a terrible person. Still, this was all too much, so I pushed against his chest, trying to get some space. In an instant, he caught both my wrists and raised them over my head. Then he was holding them with one hand while the other slid into my hair again, this time holding it just tight enough to hurt, twisting my head up toward his. He leaned forward, lips hovering over mine, and spoke.
“I’ve been watching you twitch that ass of yours for too long,” he whispered, licking his lips. “You sit on that pretty little porch of yours with your friends. You pretend you aren’t scoping me out, but you are. You’ve wanted it bad for a long time, and now you’re gonna get it.”
Then his mouth took mine, tongue shoving inside. You belong to me now, he’d said. Remember this moment.
Holy. Crap.
What’d I gotten myself into?
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a prequel short story about Melanie and Painter’s first meeting. It takes place one year before the beginning of Reaper’s Fall (when Painter is released from prison), against the background of action from Reaper’s Stand. I thought you might enjoy reading it.
SUGAR AND SPICE
MELANIE
I fell for Levi “Painter” Brooks the first time I saw him, although in all fairness I did have a head injury at the time.
It was a weird start to a relationship, too.
You see, I blew up a house.
It wasn’t on purpose, and in my defense I’d had a really shitty day. My mom had taken off earlier in the week. Just up and left while I was at work on Monday, and she never came back. Neither me or my dad heard a thing from her, and while she’d always been sort of flaky, she’d never done anything like this before. By Wednesday night, I broke down and asked him if we should report her missing to the police.
He’d thrown his beer bottle at me, shouting about how “the whore” must’ve gotten herself a new man. She’d left me because I was nothing, just like she was nothing.
Then he’d told me to go buy him more beer.
I decided to call Loni instead.
Not long afterward, I blew up her house.
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London Armstrong was my best friend’s aunt. Jessica and I had been tight for years, and as my own mother drifted further and further from reality, they’d become my second family. She’d told me to head on over to her place and let myself in, that she’d see me later that night. I went over there and made myself some macaroni and cheese on her gas stove.
A couple hours later the house exploded.
Gas leak.
Nobody said it was my fault, but I knew it had to be. I’d been the last one to use the stove, so there you have it. Anyway, fate has a weird sense of humor, because that’s how I met Painter. The next day, I mean. At the hospital.
He gave me a lift on his motorcycle, and I fell in love.
God I was young. Young and stupid.
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