Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Should it have felt weird that she’d slept with someone who—gag—had … known her stepsister intimately? Probably. But Levi had never belonged to Celeste. On the other hand, he’d always been Piper’s, she simply hadn’t always known it. And that made all the difference.
He’d once said he didn’t see Piper in terms of who she was to Celeste. That worked both ways now. Piper didn’t view him as her stepsister’s ex anymore, she viewed him as hers.
“No freaking out,” Piper assured him, which earned her another hip-squeeze.
Was it disappointing that this would be a one-off? Yeah. But it would also be for the best. It was a damn shame that the ‘best’ in this instance kind of sucked.
CHAPTER TEN
Two weeks of peace went by. Pure and utter peace.
There were no more murders, no more attacks on Piper, no more cases of vandalism. Kelvin ceased attempting to contact her, and Celeste unexpectedly kept a low profile.
Piper and Olive both believed that there was a good chance the invisible attacker—or whoever might have hired him—had backed off completely. The guy had every reason to, considering he’d otherwise have to contend with Levi. But her reaper wasn’t so certain, and so she’d promised to remain vigilant.
Piper didn’t believe Celeste had chosen to back down and let everything lie. When it came to her stepsister, there was often that calm-before-the-storm period. It was a banshee thing. Like they enjoyed lulling their foes into a false sense of security or something.
In any case, the uneventful weeks had given Piper and Levi a chance to spend uninterrupted, relaxing, quality time together. Which was exactly what they did. They talked, confided, even shared secrets.
They also had sex. A lot.
Their one-night stand had become … well not a fling. It was more of an agreement—one they’d made after they slept together the second time.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said, pacing near the bed.
“I often do things I shouldn’t.” He watched her, lying in bed with his hands behind his head. “You wanted it as much as I did.”
“Yes, but I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was an accident.”
He smiled, amused. “What, you fell on my cock?”
She glared at him. “I mean, I hadn’t planned for us to sleep together more than once. I don’t want things to get all muddled between us. A single evening of sex is one thing. But I know anchored pairs who had flings that went sour, and it tainted their bond. Not even great sex is worth that.”
He slowly sat upright. “I get where you’re coming from, but here’s the thing. We will end up in bed together again, Piper. Neither of us are done. So I say we don’t fight it. I say we let it happen. Once we’re anchored, we’ll stop; we’ll begin the anchor relationship on a platonic note, to start as we mean to go on.”
She’d hemmed and hawed over it for a few hours, unsure what to do. The more she’d thought about it, the more she’d felt that he was right. They were nothing close to done, and she’d known that she wouldn’t have the willpower to resist the temptation to fall into bed with him again. It had made more sense to get it out of their systems and let boredom settle in so that they could start things afresh when they bonded.
Since then, they’d done as he’d suggested and quite simply enjoyed each other. They didn’t behave in couple-like ways. They didn’t date or cuddle or even flirt. Their interactions throughout the day were pretty much as they always had been. But when they were alone in the evenings, they’d somehow end up having sex. And they never discussed or referred to it afterwards.
They also never spent a night apart. They usually went to her place after she finished work, but occasionally she stayed over at his huge swanky apartment. They didn’t always sleep since, as demons, they didn’t always need to. But they’d do more talking and sharing.
Although he’d parted with many secrets, there were things he kept to himself. He told her more about his time at the orphanage, for instance, but he hadn’t yet spoken of his aunt’s murder. Piper hadn’t pushed him to tell her. He’d either do it in his own time, or he wouldn’t. And who could blame him for not wanting to tear open such a wound? She didn’t want to watch him bleed.
Besides, she wouldn’t expect him to share everything just because they were anchors. It wasn’t as if he otherwise held back from her. He was all-in, and she was ready to give him that same commitment.
She was ready to form the anchor bond.
Really, she’d been ready for at least a week. She’d hesitated for two very selfish reasons.
Firstly, once he finally had what he wanted and they were bonded, the amount of time they spent together would lessen considerably. She didn’t want that.