Emma’s Reaper
Soul Reaper #4
By J.D. Lowrance
Text copyright © 2015 by J.D. Lowrance
Cover photo: glebTv/Shutterstock
Cover design: J.D. Lowrance
Editor: A.D. Bednego
This ebook is intended for adult readers only. It is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dear Reader: This is the fourth book in the series. Don’t miss out on Logan’s Reaper (Soul Reapers #1), Campbell’s Reaper (Soul Reapers #2), and Dylan’s Reaper (Soul Reapers #3) available at Amazon.com.
Happy reading!
J.D. Lowrance
DEDICATION
This is for the fans who time and time again asked for Emma and Gunner’s story.
I hope you love their story as much as I do!
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
Gunner
Emma.
Out of respect for the patch I wore I kept my distance. Always at arms’ length. Not allowing myself the slightest reprieve from the deep ache my need for her created.
Emma.
She surrounded me. Consumed me . . . my thoughts . . . my dreams. Held me captive with her beauty. Tied me to Camden City with my desire to be near her, even when I was desperately needed elsewhere.
Emma.
A brother needed stitched up. A medical supplies run. All reasons I gave myself of why I spent every possible moment with her.
Emma.
The stolen glances. The accidental touches that were really on purpose. Her pupils dilated whenever she was within reach; heart thumping, blood pumping. Stiff dick, sweaty palms.
You name it, I got it.
All for her.
Emma.
Now it was a light bulb that needed changing. The grass mowed. The sitter cancelled. Hell, I would do just about anything to be in the same room with her.
Emma.
I wanted her withering beneath me moaning my name as I filled her pretty pink pussy over and over again until she screamed her release. Until I pumped her so full of me that I was the only thing that surrounded her. Consumed her. Held her.
Emma.
CHAPTER ONE
Emma
I had had enough. Of Gunner. Of his eyes that were so intense they burned like the blue flame of the hottest fire. Of his hard body that seemed to brush up against mine when I was least expecting it, causing my lady parts to weep with frustration as he remained just out of reach.
I had had enough of the Cajun accent and phrases that only came out when he wanted to sweeten me up. I was strung so tight from the yearning this man created in me. Hell, by just being in the same room with him or whenever I caught his musty scent that lingered too long after he left.
And he always left. After every chore was done. After every hospital shift was over. Gunner left. He left me alone with my thoughts, which caused more harm than if he just ravaged my body the way I wanted . . . no needed him to. Dylan continued to assure me weekly, if not daily, that he was giving me time and space to lie to rest the memories of Tru.
And yes, the loss of Tru was hard to deal with. Still was. But it was more than just the loss; it was how I was forced to watch the father of my sons die in my arms. That I had to tell my boys that their father was gone from this world, taken by senseless violence that I hoped they never grew to understand.
My pain at the loss stemmed from years of having the same man in my life. Tru was my best friend for over a decade and nothing would ever change that; not even our sorry attempt at making a friendship a marriage. I did love him and he loved me, but not in the way that either of us needed to make our marriage whole. Our love was born in simpler moments that were made up of the camaraderie of cold beers and laughs, parties and Sunday rides. The cut he earned and the birth of our twins did little to change the feelings between us.
As the love I felt for Tru lived on in Maxon and Mason, I was free to admit that there was something between Gunner and me. I felt it every time he stepped foot in my house to check in on us or to watch the boys. I felt it every time he lingered in my space. With each innocent touch and longing glance. I felt it.
Even now with a room full of people and Gunner sitting at the furthest table away, I felt it. I could feel every pass of his electric-blue gaze over my body as if it was his fingertips. The more Gunner drank the bolder he grew, letting it linger longer and longer, bolstering my confidence that tonight was the night to convince him that I was ready for whatever this was between us.
Dylan fell into the seat beside me, pulling me from my daydreams of what tonight could become.
“Hey preggo,” I teased as she let out the biggest sigh of relief.
“How did you carry two of these suckers at one time? I mean damn, WOMAN. Two hours on my feet and I feel like I could lay my head down on this table and sleep for hours. How did you carry two and work in a hospital all the way up until you gave birth?”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “It was during my clinical and I knew I just needed to do it to get it done. I think I was too tired at the time to think about it.”
“I could totaaalllyyy see that,” agreed Dylan dramatically, which made us both laugh. “So where is our resident bad ass?” I shrugged my shoulders knowing exactly who she was talking about. “Don’t give me that. I know you know exactly where he is. Let me see,” Dylan said as she began to make a dramatic show of looking around the clubhouse.
“Stop,” I gritted through clenched teeth. “He is at the back table.”
“Is he now? I thought you didn’t know where tall, dark, and deadly was sitting,” she baited. “You didn’t seem to know the location a moment ago.”
“Oh, just stop. You know as well as I do that he has been sitting there practically the whole night scanning the room like he always does.”
“The room? Girl, you have no idea. I feel indecent just thinking about all the ways he was staring at you. I can only imagine what he was thinking considering what I saw written all over his face. I’m horny just thinking about it.” Dylan said the whole rant in one breath, leaving her huffing and puffing by the time she was done. “Come to thi
nk of it, where the hell is Knox?”
Gunner
Emma.
So beautiful.
A goddess with long, dark curls that framed her heart-shaped face. Big, chocolate brown eyes that were as deep and dark as my need for this woman. Full, luscious lips that would look perfect pressed against any part of my body. A lean body that flared just right at the hips, creating an hour-glass figure that was on full display in the dark purple dress that hugged her in all the right places.
So very perfect.
“Can I sit?” Damn! How the hell? It seemed just about anyone could sneak up on me whenever Emma was on my mind.
“Certainly.” My eyes betrayed me as they found their way back to her. They could never stay away too long whenever we were in the same room. Tru, God rest his soul, knew it the first time he caught me staring down his wife a little over a year and a half ago. And today was no different. I tracked her every move from the slight tilt of her head to the laugh she was sharing with Dylan as they sat and talked at Colton and Logan’s wedding.
“She’s beautiful,” commented Knox. I could not agree more.
“She is,” I agreed, keeping my tone even as my heart rate soared at being given the freedom to just look at her. I knew I was being rude by not looking at Knox, but I could not tear my eyes away from Emma and her smile, her light . . . hell . . . just her.
“Are you finally going to do something about it?” His question took me off guard. I turned to look at him. What was Knox getting at? Although no one but Wesson knew my whole story, most of the brothers got that I was from the Baton Rouge chapter and that shit was hitting the fan down there. I had put off going back long enough. The wedding was the last excuse I could think of that could keep me here. Leaving was my only option whether I wanted to or not.
“I don’t think so brother.” I reached for my glass and swallowed the last of my whiskey. The welcome burn coated my throat as the warmth began to spread throughout my body.
“Why not?” Jesus! He was persistent.
“I have to leave in the morning,” I confessed. The words hurt more than I cared to admit. “Baton Rouge is having trouble and they need me back.” Knox knew this! He even nodded in agreement. Then he turned to me with an expression as serious as I had ever seen on his face.
“Don’t leave without her knowing what you want brother,” Knox paused, “let her decide.” Decide what? There was no decision here. I was leaving and there was no telling when I would be back.
“Hey.” Dylan offered a welcome reprieve from this going-no-where conversation. First Wesson and now Knox. Did they not see that starting something this late in the game was a no go? Did they not see that leaving her after having her would make it impossible to stay away? Impossible do what was needed of me? To do what needed to be done in Baton Rouge?
“Hi Princess and baby princess,” Knox cooed. My eyes stayed planted on the dance floor as Knox continued to fuss over Dylan and her ever-expanding stomach. What would it feel like to see Emma like that? I closed my eyes as image after image assaulted me of Emma growing round with my baby; a little person with dark curls and bright blue eyes. A precious baby girl protected and loved by her older brothers. A daddy’s girl thru and thru. A future so clear that I could feel her little hand in mine.
Fuck!
I opened my eyes to try and clear the images away. To my dismay those images were replaced by Emma who stood on the other side of the table. As if she could feel my eyes on her once again, Emma turned and looked right at me. Her tongue made an appearance as it traced along her plump, bottom lip. It was exactly the same path I envisioned my tongue following if it were ever given the chance. As my eyes lingered on her lips, a small smile appeared right before Emma asked, “Wanna dance?”
Yes! Every single time. “Always cher.” The last word slipped out. It was what I called her in my head all the time, but the whiskey coursing through my veins let it be known. Emma offered her hand, but I bypassed it as I pulled her against me. This was the first time I could ever remember being able to touch her out in the open. Her quick intake of breath told me I had surprised her. But damn! That was how I felt every time she walked into the room.
All thoughts of not having her, of leaving tomorrow vanished when her scent slammed into me. My cock throbbed to the beat of my racing heart as she rubbed up against me.
It was time to make this happen . . . to make us happen. To make her MINE. There was no brother standing in the way to stop whatever this was. No reason to stand in the shadows and watch what I desired most held by another man. I was finally that man. The man that got to pull her close and say all the things I ever wanted to say.
When Emma’s gorgeous chocolate browns connected with mine, I murmured, “Je t’adore.” I adore you.
CHAPTER TWO
Emma
Our bodies were glued together. It was like neither of us wanted space to come between us. Not after we had waited so long for this. Gunner never stopped serenading me throughout the entire song, “The Way You Look Tonight.” When that ended he held me close seducing me with his thick accent with mixed Cajun lines. Some things I understood, others did not need interpretation. Each word, every phrase drove my need for this man higher and higher. It started as a warmth deep in my belly that extended throughout my body each time our eyes met and held.
This was it!
Gunner was finally acknowledging this crazy attraction we shared, the spark that always ignited between us when our skin accidentally touched whenever we worked together. We could finally be together without the complications of brotherhood and duty.
Selena Gomez’s “Good For You,” came on over the speakers, followed by the high pitch squeal of Campbell. I felt Gunner’s laughter, then the soft pressure of his lips against the curve of my shoulder. My hips swayed faster to match the beat of the music. Turning in Gunner’s arms, my ass rubbed just right against the very hard evidence that he was just as much into this dance as me. I lifted my hair up and off my neck as he ran his hands up and down my body, before returning to my hips. I sang along with Selena about touching being so good, about making him never wanting to leave.
“I never wanna leave,” responded Gunner, burying his nose in my hair while he pulled me tighter against him. Abruptly he turned me around. Cupping my face, he slammed his lips to mine. My body melted against him when our tongues met for the first time. Gunner tasted like unlimited possibilities as we deepened the kiss, exploring one another. His fingers threaded through my hair holding me in place, almost as if he was afraid I would run from him or disappear altogether. We kissed and kissed and kissed until the catcalls and cheers drowned out the music. Gunner pressed his forehead to mine as our lips parted. Our breaths were shallow as we stared into one another’s eyes.
His eyes blazed the brightest blue I had ever seen, as if they were lit from the inside out with a fire so hot that with one touch I would be consumed. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could stop my desperation for wanting to be burned alive.
“Be mine,” growled Gunner.
“I thought I already was,” I said as he gripped my hand and led me up the stairs and to the only place I had ever wanted to be in the clubhouse . . . his room.
Gunner
“I thought I already was.” Emma’s words were on repeat as all the things I ever wanted to do to her played in my mind’s eye. I worshipped this woman and now it was time to show her just how much.
We made it to my room in record time as I pulled her through the door, shutting and locking it behind us. I turned to find Emma looking around my room, at the bare walls and chipped paint. No woman, except her, was ever worth entertaining here so I did little to fix it up when I took it. I never planned to stay as long as I did. A nomad was known for their coming and going. But one look at Emma and I was a junkie looking for his next fix.
This room showed more about me than I cared to admit. I had no ties or family here. The military showed me that all I really needed was a place to
store my guns. Hell, the bed was optional in my opinion. To me it was just a place to rest my eyes in between the times my brothers or Emma needed me. But now looking at it through Emma’s first time eyes, I knew it was lacking. Doubt crept into my mind about whether or not this was the right thing to do. Making Emma mine was not part of any plan I had ever concocted. Thoughts of leaving tomorrow fueled the uncertainty.
I continued to watch Emma’s short trip around my room. Her eyes were like a window to her soul and right now the pressure of knowing what she thought was too much. My head dropped to avoid her eyes. What if she was disappointed or worse - regretting her decision to come up here? My chest heaved as indecision warred within me.
I knew one of us had to make the next move, but I fisted my hands to keep from reaching out and pulling her to me. A move perfected when it came to Emma being within arm’s reach. It was Emma’s right to decide what happened next, and she did not disappoint as she stepped right into my space. A deep breath had me taking in her fresh, fallen rain scent. God, I wish I could just bottle it up and take it with me. Eyes squeezed shut as my thoughts went crazy of having her, of marking her, of leaving her, of how much I needed . . . her.
And I did. Every hair on her head, every breath she took, every look that came my way; I needed. “Gunner.” My name echoed in the silence of the room. I opened my eyes to find her watching me as her hand slowly came up. The look in my eyes had Emma pausing before a single fingertip touched my chest. And that was all it took.
Uncertainty turned to decisiveness as my arms encircled her narrow waist, drawing her into me. Emma became weightless in my arms as I bent over, running my nose from her shoulder up the column of her neck to take a nip at her ear. It was hard to believe that I finally had this woman . . . MY woman in my arms.
Emma's Reaper: Soul Reapers #4 Page 1
