Reaper: Devil's Rose MC #1

Chapter 11: Fiona Grace

After getting in a shopping groove for about an hour, much to the dislike of the man who keeps asking questions about why I'm picking certain clothes (he's part of the problem here). Once I've chosen all the clothes I like, I go into the changing room.

I force Reaper to sit and judge my outfits. During the fashion show, he likes most of them, but I can tell which ones he loves. His mouth parts a little, his tongue gliding along his bottom lip, his muscles tense, he clasps his hand tighter together till his knuckles go white, and his eyes - holy shit those eyes - they don't stop roaming my body.

It's good to know that I affect him just as much as he affects me. I clench my thighs together, thinking about those darkening eyes, his whole confident demeanor setting me ablaze. Gosh, if only he was more open about women in his life. Because I would be down with ending up in his bed multiple times a week, a day even.

At the end of our shopping trip, I end up with twelve dresses (all different types), twenty t-shirts, four pairs of jeans, seven pairs of sweatpants, six pairs of leggings, ten pairs of shorts, about ten different sets of bras and underwear (which Reaper did not get to see my try on, unfortunately), a couple of packs of socks, three new pairs of shoes, and three bathing suits - all bikinis.

I had no idea that I would have this big a haul, but he wouldn't let me stop. Every time I got one thing, he told me to pick out another. And yes, I didn't argue with him, but it's not entirely my fault.

I pay for half of my things with cash while he pays the other half with his credit card, and that decision took about ten minutes for us to debate about. I was surprised that he let me hand my money over, and not that I care about paying, it would have been more of his style to steal the money right out of my hand so I couldn't pay.

As of right now, we are back at the bar, and I'm gossiping with Beatrice about Whiskey like I said I would. Reaper wasn't too excited about having to sit here with me as we talk about boys, so I sent him on his way, telling him I would be perfectly fine without him.

Honestly, I kind of knew that would happen. It was quite unexpected that he stayed through the three-hour shopping trip. I knew he wouldn't be able to handle it anymore. Plus, Beatrice and I talk like a hundred miles a minute when we are together cause we just have so much to say, we were probably annoying him.

From a distance, the motorcycle engines roar, and the two of us pick up our heads to see out the window. I stare in anticipation, hoping Reaper will be walking in soon, my heart pounding in excitement.

He walks inside first, making me wiggle in my seat with joy, and he smirks across the bar towards me. It doesn't take long for him to push through the tables, his arms snaking around my waist to give me a tight hug.

"Hi, baby."

"Hi."

    He places a soft kiss on my exposed neck, his arms squeezing me one more time before letting me partly go. His arm still rests around my waist, and he lifts his finger in hopes for a drink. I give him a few of my extra french fries as he sits down beside me, Beatrice not minding our conversation ending since she now has Whiskey to talk to.

The prospects, Major and Nick who don't have rider names yet, were the ones keeping an eye on us (as Reaper so lovingly calls it) while they were off making rounds - whatever that means.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a simple necklace. It's a choker necklace with a few small star pendants across the front. He explains that he saw and got it for me since I kept looking up at the stars last night. He thought I might like it.

I sweep my hair away from the back of my neck, turning around so he can clasp it together. His fingers linger on my skin, his breath hitting my neck, and I completely forget how to breathe. I press a soft kiss against his cheek, whispering 'thank you' in his ear before continuing to eat the rest of my food.

"Do you want to go home?"

    I cough harshly, a piece of french fry getting caught in my throat. He slaps his hand heavily on my back, calling out to Bear. He comes rushing over, but I wave him away.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Thank you, Bear, but I'm good."

"What happened?"

"You said home."

"Oh, well...um...uh, yeah, I guess."

    He scratches at the back of his head, his face flushed a subtle red.

"I would love to go home with you."

    This time it's his turn to choke. Not on a portion of food but his own spit. He takes a sip of his water, and I burst out laughing, knowing he is perfectly fine and not dying. It does not take much to get him all worked up. For such a tough, vicious-looking man, he cannot handle himself around me and my naughty jokes. Once again, it's nice to know I have an effect on him.

A few of the other bikers in the bar begin to get rowdy as the moon sits in the night sky, the party coming alive like the first time I saw it. My hands begin to shake, my breath quickening, my eyes filling with terror. Some parts of what I went through with James have changed how much I can handle being around loud, strong, and partly drunk men who are looking to have a good time.

I don't mean that all men who are loud, strong, and partly drunk are going to hurt me, but I know it's better to assume the worst and be cautious about situations I put myself in. Reaper's rough hand slides over my thigh, gripping it comfortingly.

"I know they are scary but no one is going to hurt you. I wouldn't let them, and they aren't those kinds of guys. I promise that if they were, they wouldn't be in Devil's Rose."

"Can we go though?"

"Yes, let's go."

    He turns to Poison, pointing to me and then the door. He nods in regard to what Reaper is letting him know. I stand, clutching his bicep in pure fear as we walk out to the street. Being there by myself during the day is not an issue. I can handle myself.

But it's nice to know that I have a man that most people are afraid of to protect me when I need it. However, Cassius taught me some pretty good self-defense skills of my own. Maybe Reaper could teach me more.

"Is there anything else you would like to do tonight?"

I weave my lower arm through his, my head leaning on his upper arm.

"Nothing specific. Watching a movie and eating ice cream sounds good though."

"I have vanilla, milk and cookies, chocolate therapy, and chocolate chip cookie dough Ben and Jerry's pints, but we could always stop by the store to get you some other flavor if you would like."

"First of all, how do you know all the flavors you have?"

"I fucking love ice cream. There's no denying it."

"Second, that sounds like more than enough. I think we'll be good to go."

"What would you like to watch? I only have Netflix and Amazon Prime."

"I was thinking of a Will Ferrell movie."

    His lock clicks open with a soft noise as he twists his key. The shopping bags from today lay in the entranceway of his home, and I instantly feel guilty about it. I know that he doesn't like people invading his space.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.