Second Debt

I bristled, not looking over my shoulder. The hair on the back of my neck stood up having Jethro so close. I might’ve been able to push away my never-enjoyed orgasm, but I didn’t want to be too near. “There, he answered your question.”

Twisting my fingers from Kes’s hold, I said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see if the staff needs any help with that picnic basket.” Without waiting for permission, I disappeared down the steps and beelined for the two women in white pinafores struggling with a hamper.

Up close, I noticed the 4WDs were the newest model Land Rovers, and the horse trucks were ridiculously glitzy. How many diamonds did the Hawks smuggle to afford all this?

I jumped as a large hand splayed on my lower back.

Jethro didn’t look down, preferring to keep his attention on a stable boy carrying saddle blankets. “Did you finish?”

I flinched, trying to move away from his touch. “That’s none of your business.”

Jethro moved with me, his fingertips digging into the tense muscles at the base of my spine. “None of my business? I think it is.” He lowered his voice, his eyes still avoiding mine. “You see, I need to know if the woman who belongs to me is wet and panting for a release. We’ll be in public today, Ms. Weaver. Having someone who’s as hungry to come as you were in that shower is a matter of public security.”

His lips twisted as he finally bowed his head to look into my eyes. “So, tell me…did you finger yourself until your cunt squeezed, all while fantasising it was my cock riding you—my cock slamming inside you? Or did you pretend you weren’t that sort of girl and stop playing with yourself?”

“Shut up,” I hissed. My eyes darted to the staff who crunched across the gravel in front of us. Jethro wasn’t exactly quiet—anyone could hear if they tried hard enough.

Hard.

God, even innocent words painted lewd pictures inside my head. Images of Jethro’s hard cock consumed me, and my heart hurled itself against my ribs. All my efforts at pushing down the ache between my legs was in vain. In a few sentences, Jethro had made me sopping wet and trembling with lust.

Again.

Damn man has super powers.

“Answer me, Ms. Weaver.”

My hands balled and I snapped, “No. I didn’t. Satisfied? I was too angry at you for saying I suck at lying. You’re the one who’s terrible.” I laughed, adding, “Congratulations on winning the hypocritical award.” I mentally patted myself on the back for using my remembered reproach.

Jethro rolled his eyes. “How long have you been waiting to use that?”

Damn him, he stole any joy I might’ve had from one-upping him. His hand moved to clutch my hip, tugging me closer. “By the way, I believe if there is an award for such a thing, it would go to you.”

Don’t ask. Do not ask why.

It pained me to hold my chin high and not grab his bait, but I managed it. Just.

Jethro huffed, annoyed that I didn’t play along. “Fine…if you’re going to be like that.” Letting me go, he turned to leave but brushed his lips against my ear. “If I’m rock hard and in pain after fantasising of fucking you; if I can barely see straight from imagining my cock sliding in and out of your heat, I’m sure as hell going to grab my dick and throttle it until I come so hard it looks like fucking snow.”

Pressing a chaste kiss on my cheekbone, he murmured, “Think about that next time you’re riding a showerhead and just call me. I’ll put you out of your misery, but it won’t come for free.”

My mouth hung open. My womb ached in a way I hadn’t felt before—heavy, tender—a call for more than just sex but the primal need to have a man fill me.

Jethro’s lips twisted into half a smile, then he left, prowling toward his father and Daniel.

My heartbeat roared in my ears. I stood like an idiot as staff continued to load and look at me with an odd expression. Chagrin painted my cheeks, thinking they probably knew exactly what ailed me.

Sex.

I’d been debased to craving sex all while my life hung in some precarious balance.

Sex.

The monstrous need that made graves and debts and tally marks insubstantial compared to the promise of finding heaven in his arms.

“Nila…you okay?” Kes asked, sidling up to me.

I blew out a breath. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Waving my hand at the dwindling chaos, I asked, “What is all this for?”

Kes grinned. “I told you a few days ago. Polo.”

For some stupid reason, I thought it would take place on Hawk ground. I looked down at my black dress and thin mesh jumper. The garments weren’t enough now the weather had lost its summer warmth and slid straight into autumn chill. “Am I still permitted to come, or—”

“Of course. I told you…staff, prisoners…” He nudged my shoulder in jest. “The more the merrier. Come on, it’s time to go.” He moved toward his family, leaving me no choice but to follow, regardless that I wanted to move in the opposite direction to Cut Hawk.

Jethro never took his golden eyes off me as I stopped before them. Kes clapped his hands together. “Ready to get this mayhem on the road?”

Cut rubbed his jaw, looking me up and down. “Would you care to ride with me, my dear?” He pulled free a black handkerchief from his pocket, dangling it between his fingers. His smile was cold and sadistic. “I’ll have to blindfold you so you won’t know the way off the estate, but you’re welcome to the luxury of the vehicle.”