Reaper Unleashed by Michelle Woods, Mary Bogart Crenshaw Page A

funny.
    The door opened and Reaper stepped inside.
    “Ready to call it a night?” he asked gruffly, watching her.
    “Yes, but I was wondering, could I get a small advance on my paycheck? Just like thirty credits to hold me over until Wednesday,” she asked in a rush so that she didn’t chicken out, because asking Reaper for anything made her nervous. He was like a loaded gun; if you didn’t keep your finger off the trigger, you’d end up with more than you bargained for.
    He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes dark and stormy as he watched her. She breathed deeply as she tried not to panic from the intense look in his eyes. She wanted to hide beneath the desk to get away from his intent look.
    Reaper wanted to give her anything she wanted, but he couldn’t. Over the last few weeks he’d begun to get her used to his touch so that she wouldn’t run when he turned it up a notch. She was skittish and if he pushed this too far too fast, she’d run. She needed to get accustomed to his touch. He’d decided as he’d suffered through more hard-ons in the last week than he ever had in his entire lifetime that he wasn’t going to allow her to walk away. The torture was that he couldn’t seem to get it up for another woman because he was so focused on her that no other woman seemed to stir his cravings.
    He hated the four nights a week when she was off. He actually worried about her and his guts didn’t settle until she came in the door for her next shift. When she was here and he knew she was safe was the only time he felt stable. Even Lock had asked him what the hell was wrong with him lately a few days ago.
    He’d told the man some bullshit story about his headaches, but it was really her. That was why he wanted to give her what she wanted. Only he knew if he did and one of the other women found out, he’d have every woman in this club offering to give him sexual favors for her own paycheck early. It would cause too much hassle and he wasn’t going to deal with that bullshit.
    “No,” he told her flatly
    “Reaper, I just need a little. Just till Wednesday.”
    “Do I look like I run a fucking charity, Sarah?” he asked snidely. “Get your shit and let’s go.”
    “No, asshole, you don’t but it wouldn’t be charity because I already earned the fucking credits.” Sarah stood, grabbing her purse and stomping towards the door.
    “And you’ll get paid when everyone else does. Don’t be bitchy about it and didn’t I fucking tell you not to wear this damned skirt to work again?” he grumbled, following her out into the hallway as she stormed towards the door.
    “I wouldn’t if I could afford to buy other clothes but since I haven’t been paid, you can just deal with it, asshole!”
    Reaper watched her skirt swaying as she stormed past the bar and he noticed the raised brows of Lock and Bull, who expected him to show her exactly why no one else dared to call him anything except Reaper. He wouldn’t hurt her but he could intimidate and frighten her. Only that wasn’t going to get him into her bed and he knew it. If he scared her, she’d be gone before he could blink and that wouldn’t work for him. Not at all.
    “I told you to talk to me in a respectful tone, little girl. I meant it,” he roared after her through clenched teeth. She spun, looking at him with anger in every line of her body.
    “I don’t give a fuck, asshole!” She then spun around again and stormed to the door. Bull was bent over laughing, his face red. As Reaper walked by, he punched the man in the stomach, hard, knocking him back into the bar where he knocked off several beer bottles, making Sarah spin around a second time to glare.
    “Must you be so damned violent!” she cried, her eyes wide as she watched Bull stumble to a stool and sit down panting. Shaking her head, she turned away muttering under her breath. Just in case someone got ideas, he punched Bull a second time before glaring at the other men, who held their