Reaper (Boston Underworld, #2)

by A. Zavarelli

He looks like he’s in agony. Drugged, so high on me I can’t bring myself to look away for even a second.

He’s a mixture of brutal and sensual. Sweet and hard. Rough and thoughtful.

I’m enveloped by a sense of calm. Relief. I feel safe with him, this killer.

“Shh…” I tell them. Sasha blinks up at me and laughs. “Did you just shush me?” I clear my throat and my cheeks burn when I realize I did. “I just wanted to listen for a moment longer.”

🖤🥰

“My anam cara,” we both repeat together. They are the same words carved into our wedding rings in Ogham script. The words that mean, quite simply, his soul is mated to mine.