Razor Read Online Free PDF Page B

cool-ass metal sculptures. Rich people stumble over themselves to buy his shit. Duel works with Tank at his gym. They manage to keep their asses out of trouble.”
    Aaliyah ducked her head, thankful the blush that she could feel heating her cheeks couldn’t be seen. “This is going to sound stupid, but I have no idea what you do.”
    Razor’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck again, an endearing habit he’d always had. “I guess we were so caught up in the past, never got around to the present. I’m a firefighter.”
    The image of Razor in uniform hit Aaliyah so hard, she had to stop walking right then or she would fall over. Razor was by her side in a minute. “You alright?”
    “Um, yeah, yeah.”
    She tried waving him off, but Razor was looking hard at her, and then he must have seen too much, because he broke out into a smartass grin. “Want to see me handle the hose?”
    “I will hurt you.”
    He laughed at her waving finger, enfolding it in his own hands and giving a quick kiss to the tip. Her breath went sharp at the action, and his eyes sought hers. But he didn’t follow it up, only tucked her hand back in his arm and began walking again.
    The night was gorgeous, clear sky and bright moon, and with Razor she had always felt absolutely safe, so there was no nervousness. Hell, he was probably as big as any forest creature they’d come across.
    “Why’d you and your husband get divorced?”
    Well, she hadn’t been expecting the easy questions. Besides, this was something he needed to know, and she shoved ruthlessly at the pain that was threatening to rise up. She and Razor weren’t anything, and she refused to mourn the fact that after he heard this, they never would be. “I can’t have kids.”
    His big body whipped around in shock. She refused to look at him, though his eyes on her were a brand. “Cervical cancer. I have a clean bill of health, but I had to get a hysterectomy.”
    Their breaths were loud in the quiet, and from the corner of her eye was the sight of Razor’s big chest rising and falling rapidly.
    Aaliyah wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye, not letting it fall. She’d cried enough, and if cancer took yet another thing from her, she’d survive it. She’d survived everything so far. “Damon was still wrong to do what he did. He took a coward’s way out, and I’m ashamed of him. But it’s why I can’t hate him. He always did want kids.”
    There was nothing else to say, and this was the end of it, because what twenty-six year old wanted a woman who was older, already with a history of cancer, and wouldn’t be able to give him a family?
    It wasn’t until just this minute that Aaliyah realized inside her, small and meager, there had been a fantasy carefully nurtured, a fantasy involving this man, where she would meet him, strong and handsome, and he’d sweep her off her feet, and kiss her, and tell her everything would be fine.
    Absolutely ridiculous. She was the one who left, after all.
    Then she was swept off her feet, crushed against a massive chest, a big hand stroking her head, and above her, choked off whispers on repeat of “I’m sorry.”
    She curled into him, no tears, because she had already cried the tears, but letting his warmth soak into her inch by inch, thawing so many frozen parts.
    It took several long moments before she came to herself enough to realize she was literally in his arms, his body holding her weight and had been for several minutes. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hold me.”
    “One word about your weight,” and here his voice was dark and deep and so commanding, a thrill of submission swept over her, a desire to do whatever that voice ordered. “And I will beat your ass. I can hold you all night like this. Don’t you dare play mind games with yourself.”
    Fuck , that was hot. And unexpected. And hot. And why the fuck were the only thoughts running through her head now all involving her on her knees