Reaping Love

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Authors: Crymsyn Hart

Tags: #31 Days of Steamy Mocha

BOOK: Reaping Love
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REAPING LOVE

 

Crymsyn Hart

 

Copyright Notice

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Copyright©
2012
Crymsyn Hart

 

Editor:
Michael LaRocca

Proofreader: Nicole Kurtz

Cover Artist:
Nancy Grayson Donahue

Published by Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC

 

All rights reserv
ed. No part of this book may be
used or reproduced electronically or in print
without written permission, except in the case of
brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Due to
copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any
e-books away.

Publisher Note:

This is a work of fiction and may contain descriptions of adult situations, explicit language, and
scenarios
.
This story is for adults only.
Please keep this out of the hands of peopl
e under the age of 18 years old.

31 Days of Steamy Mocha:

Reaping Love

 

Vic continued to wipe down the counter. No matter how long he rotated that darn cloth, he was never going to get it cleaner than it already was. But that was not the point. His thoughts were fixed on the one thing he was sure he could never have again. He tried to force his mind from the one vision that haunted him. Nadine. Her full lips, stunning gray eyes that bordered on violet, and cascading caramel locks. For an instant, she had turned her eyes on him and then, the way all the others did, she had departed. That was nothing new. They all left him and normally Vic did not remember the ones who passed through his grasp. Nadine was the one who had stuck with him. Even the sound of her voice had done wonderful things to him, but he had to let her go on.

The bell above the door dinged again signaling a customer had come in. Vic pulled his thoughts from the desolate path they were leading and focused on the man before him. His suit was rumpled and his comb-over tousled from the raging wind that threatened to blow anyone away who dared the tempest advancing on the city. Spears of rain pounded the glass and drenched the café. Luckily, he did not have to worry about venturing out into it because he had an apartment above Holy Grounds. Although the shop was set up in an old church, the patrons who came in were no saints. Especially the one before him.

“Usual, Ethan?” Vic asked, tucking the rag through a loop on his apron.

“Yes,” the other man grunted and dug into his wallet with fat fingers.

The barista flashed him a smile and brewed his drink, steamed milk with three shots of espresso. Ethan drummed his fingers on the counter and checked his watch. Vic glanced at him over the steamer and tried to concentrate on making his drink, but Ethan was growing impatient, probably getting ready to defend some other person who needed to be in jail, but that was not how he saw it. All that revolved around Ethan Barret was money.

“You done with that yet?” Ethan huffed.

Vic plastered on his best smile and snapped the lid onto his regular’s cup. He slid the coffee cup across the spot where he had tried to clean. Ethan handed him a piece of plastic to pay for the concoction. As Vic took the card, his fingers brushed the customer’s hand and a shock went through him. Images of Ethan standing on the courthouse steps, arguing with reporters, someone with a gun pushing through the crowd and shooting him. A cold chill rushed through Vic. The air around him crystallized and time stopped. He felt his arm changing and losing mass. When he glanced at his fingers, they were skeletal. Vic ran his hands over his face and felt the bones of his cheeks where the skin had melted away revealing his true identity.

Ethan had frozen while reaching to take his coffee. A faint red radiance emanated around the attorney. Vic’s fingers prickled and made him yearn to reach into Ethan’s red glow and yank it from him. It was almost his time, but not quite yet. The desire was there, but Vic knew if he pulled out Ethan’s soul for collection it would only cause problems for him. He turned his fingers into a fist, gathered his power so that he slipped back into the real world, and returned his mouth to the smile he had on before he slid out of normal time.

When time returned to normal, he took Ethan’s debit card and slid it through the credit card machine. As he did, Vic caught his reflection. He had returned to normal—his disguise had not been compromised. That had only happened once with Nadine. She had touched him and his human façade had melted away. The mystery of why that happened remained an enigma to him. She had been the only one to break his mask and she had moved through his grasp. The thought of her pained him.

“Are you done?” Ethan snapped and tore his debit card from Vic’s hand.

“Did you need your receipt?” Vic asked.

The attorney swore under his breath and grabbed the coffee before tearing out of the shop to deal with the storm. Vic raised his hand. “Be seeing you soon.”

Ethan did not hear him because the door had already slammed shut. Vic ran his fingers through his black hair and glanced at the clock. It was time to close up shop. A clap of thunder shook the building, making him wonder if the gods were trying to collapse it. The static electricity in the air was putting him on edge. Something was brewing and it made his bones ache. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Lightning illuminated the sky casting shadows through the café. The lights flickered and blinked off. Another flare lit the horizon. He sensed something coming, something bigger than him with wings and jaws coming to do evil things. It passed over the Holy Grounds, but it left a residue over him he could not shake that threatened to bring out his true nature. This was the most out of control he had felt since he had been blessed with the position of grim reaper over four hundred years ago. His was a lonely existence and Vic was used to that, but it hurt him to think about the one who got away. Nadine.

I can’t think about her
. He walked over to the door and locked it, knowing Holy Grounds was devoid of life. With the power out, he could not serve any more customers. There was light enough from the passing cars for him to see by, and being what he was he could see in the dark. He straightened and wiped the tables before rearranging the coffee station, making sure the condiments for the coffee were in order. His hand settled on the shaker labeled mocha, a mixture of ground chocolate and coffee beans. He inhaled the fragrance and it struck a chord. It was the same exact scent he associated with Nadine. She had been a regular who always ordered a Mocha Espresso with an extra shot of mocha and no whipped cream. She came in with a smile and brightened his day no matter how sour of an afternoon or evening he was having. Nadine was his ray of hope that the world was good among the fuckups he dealt with. Nadine always had a kind word for him or a gentle touch. Vic assumed Nadine might have felt something for him, but he never acted upon it. And when it came the time he realized he cared for the boisterous customer, her number was up and he had to collect her soul. It was the one time he wished he could resign his occupation and keep her safe. Her reaping had plagued him for the past sixteen months and made him realize how alone he was. His heart longed for a companion who could fill his lonesome nights and enjoy a good cup of java.

Vic went behind the counter and began to close out the register when he heard the bell ring above the door once more. He looked up and noticed the door remained locked. The thunderstorm continued to rage outside, shaking the windows in their moorings. An alarm on one of the coffee makers sounded through the shop, causing him to jump. He gritted his teeth. Vic turned the alarm off when he sensed something within the shop. He spun around scrutinizing the shadows, but saw no one. A bottle of chocolate syrup flew across Holy Grounds and landed on the counter, oozing out onto the spot where he been cleaning earlier.

“Whoever you are, this isn’t funny,” he growled.

Vic grabbed a towel and sopped up the syrup, wiping the cloth around in a circle. He felt something behind him. He froze. Fingers slipped over the top of his hand and entwined with his, pressing on the cloth. Someone pressed up against his back. Cold breath blasted against his nape and sent a shiver walking down his spine. Whoever was behind him had a smaller frame. He glanced at the hand over his and saw dainty, artistic fingers. The middle finger had a thin silver band wrapped around it. Lightning lit the inner space again, giving him a better glimpse of the hand on his. For a second, he saw bones without flesh and felt another dash of frigid power zap him.

“If you keep wiping this one spot, then you will wear down the varnish on the wood.”

His very spirit stilled. “Nadine?”

He pulled his hand out from beneath the one over his and turned. When he did, he was staring into those very same smoldering gray eyes that he thought he had lost. Her caramel locks cascaded down her shoulders and framed her angled cheekbones. Her features were sharper than what he remembered and her eyes held an unnatural light. She smiled. The questions that plagued his mind crumbled to ash to be scattered on the raging wind outside. Vic cupped her face and felt the coolness of her skin. His fingers tingled with the power of the death and he tried to feel for the soul he had once taken. It resided within her, but it was out of his reach.

“What miracle is this?” Vic asked.

She smiled and pushed a stray hair from his forehead. “You didn’t think you were going to be left all alone in this work you do, did you?”

“The life of a reaper is a solitary one. We do our jobs and are faceless among the people we collect.”

“You were not faceless to me.” Nadine stepped closer and trailed her finger over his lips.

Vic could scarcely believe she stood before him. Her soft touch scorched his veins. It took all his control not to grab her and have his way with her on the counter. Part of him still was not convinced she was real. Maybe she was a hallucination or some ghostly sending from whatever power controlled the storm.

“Are you really here to stay?”

She nodded. “Here to stay. If you want me to, of course. Our boss thought you might need a partner to help you run the business.”

He pulled her into his arms and crushed her to him, sending a spear of desire straight through his heart. Vic thanked his boss for sending Nadine back to him. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him as if she were happy to see him too. When she started to pull away, Vic claimed her mouth in a rough and hungry kiss. He thrust his tongue between her lips and played with hers, in a dance he had yearned to do for ages, tasting all of her. She returned the kiss with the same intensity before separating from him, leaving Vic yearning for more.

“Of course, I want you to stay. I never wanted to collect you, but it was my job. Right before you left, I had so many things to tell you.” He wove his fingers through her fine locks. With his free hand, he swiped his thumb along her bottom lip and sucked on it. “Mmm…you taste like mocha. I didn’t realize there were coffee shops in the afterlife.”

Nadine giggled. “I got a few enhancements when I came back. Figured you might want to have something familiar.”

He arched his left eyebrow. “What other enhancements are we talking about?”

She leaned in and flicked her tongue over the tip of his nose. “How about we find out?” She raked her nails down his chest and squeezed his cock.

Vic felt his dick harden, made sure Nadine was firm in his arms, and snapped his fingers. The world moved around them in a swift whoosh. It seemed for a few seconds the whole universe froze while they traveled through it. The power he had at his fingertips was something he never took advantage of and left him stupefied when he considered all the responsibility that went with it. To literally hold a life in his hand was awe inspiring, but right now all he desired was to hold the woman he adored and make love to her. After all this time, his prayers had been answered.

They emerged in his bedroom before Vic released Nadine. She glanced around the room taking it all in, but her gaze settled the king-sized bed. “Wasn’t what you expected?”

She flashed him a marvelous smile. “No, just could use a woman’s touch. But that comes after. I thought you brought me up here for a purpose.” Nadine began to unbutton her blouse and gave him a glimpse of her dark purple satin bra. She opened her shirt and slipped it off, throwing it on the floor.

Vic could not resist cupping her contained breasts and running his thumbs over her nipples that firmed from his touch. He glanced into her eyes before brushing the hair from her neck and placing his lips on the long line of her throat. He flicked his tongue over her jugular and felt the hot blood rushing beneath the flesh. Even though they had died and were now grim reapers did not mean they were truly dead. And his hunger to claim her body rivaled that of a vampire for blood. She scraped her nails down his biceps and along his sides until he squirmed. Nadine stopped only when she began to pull his shirt from his black jeans. Vic laved a line down the v of her throat and settled his tongue at the hollow between her breasts while he slid his fingers along her bra strap and unhooked it. Nadine tugged his shirt from his jeans while he was rewarded with her bra coming off and the gift of the wonderful breasts it had wrapped. He flicked his tongue over one of her pert nipples and was rewarded with a soft moan that grew into a passion-filled groan that contacted his cock when he nibbled on it. Her hands dived under the waistband of his pants and brushed the top of the sensitive head. Vic trembled and glanced up at Nadine. Her intriguing eyes were filled with the fire of desire that burned him.

“I want you,” she demanded.

“No more than I want you.” Vic stepped back from his newfound love, pulled his shirt off and let it fall to the floor, joining Nadine’s. A smile turned up her lips when he unbuttoned his jeans and began to unzip them. She batted his hands away and made sure the zipper was undone and freed his cock from his jeans. It sprang out firm and ready into her hands.

Nadine gripped his shaft and stroked him. Vic nearly lost it. His balls contracted close to his body and he could not help the hoarse cry that escaped his chest. After all these months of longing for her, she was with him touching him. He fell under her spell while her deft fingers circled his length, running over the engorged vein on the underside of his dick before cupping his balls. She squeezed them until he pressed his eyes shut with the strain of holding onto control.

“You’re having fun torturing me, aren’t you?”

Nadine flicked her tongue along his neck. “You have no idea. I’ve wanted you at my mercy for a very long time.”

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