Page 13 of Second Debt


  Unashamedly, I opened my legs wider.

  Jethro breathed in my ear. “Today, you’re all mine.”

  I bit his lobe, clamping my teeth harder than I intended. He flinched as I whispered, “Not just for today.”

  His body shuddered. His movements became jilted and eager.

  Without a sound, I positioned his cock between my legs and lowered a fraction, angling him inside.

  Oh, God.

  My eyes rolled back as Jethro growled, “Fuck, you feel so right.”

  The words wrenched me from my stupor, granting me another clue.

  I didn’t feel good or wet or warm—or any manner of things a man might say to a woman as he entered her.

  I felt right.

  Right to him.

  Home to him.

  Sucking in a breath, he thrust, sliding inside me.

  The friction of the scaffold behind me bruised my spine as Jethro held me firmer in his arms. Instinct made me wrap my legs around his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper.

  He groaned as I rocked on him. My desire stole the pain of his size, twisting it into a heady aphrodisiac that made me cry out with longing.

  Every inch of him invaded me—stretching me, claiming me.

  Jethro bit my neck, trailing teeth down oversensitive skin. “I belong in you.”

  I shuddered as his hips pulsed. I couldn’t agree more.

  His arms tightened as he secured me in his grip; his legs spread further to balance. I knew he was preparing himself for an unrelenting pace, and my unrequited orgasm bloomed into being, eager, aching.

  He thrust particularly hard, his muscled stomach kissing mine with every stroke.

  My heart twisted deliciously. I hooked my arms around his neck, holding on and presenting myself completely to this man who held my soul.

  Then everything else faded.

  Hawks, Weavers, and all things twisted between us.

  It was just me and Jethro. Heat and need.

  He drove into me with powerful strokes, pressing me relentlessly against the scaffolding. My shoulder blades screamed for mercy, but my pussy begged for more.

  I wanted punishment for falling for him.

  I needed chastising for going against everything I’d believed.

  Jethro seemed to understand. Our eyes locked and we drove each other on. Riding each other’s body, hard and brutal.

  I lost myself in the rhythm, sinking my fingers into his thick hair.

  Tugging his mouth to mine, I kissed him deep.

  Our breaths became one; the ache inside my womb increased until I flamed with urgency to shatter. The pain of riding on the knife-edge of an orgasm layered the pleasure, turning it into a sharp almost unbearable delight.

  Jethro dug his fingers into my arse, driving harder. His voice betrayed where his thoughts were. “Only once.” He grunted as he increased his rhythm. “Only once can I be this free.”

  I couldn’t think straight. I was entranced, mesmerised.

  What does he mean?

  A loud groan wrenched from Jethro’s chest as his cock thickened inside me. His shoulders bunched as he bounced me faster in his arms.

  My muscles tightened as bands of bliss prepared to release.

  Jethro growled, capturing my mouth. His tongue pulsed savagely in time with his hips. He stole my thoughts. I lavished in the rushing hotness of my blood. Gushing, pushing into my core.

  My heart bucked in my chest; I couldn’t get enough oxygen. I moaned, tearing myself from his lips to bite his shoulder. His arms trembled holding my weight. He sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Nila. I can’t—I’m gonna…”

  I knew where he was. He was in the dark abyss—the depth of pain where he normally lived. Only in the darkness existed stars and comets and lightning bolts just waiting to shatter and shower us with light.

  “Give me everything…” My legs curled around his hips, driving him up the final cliff. I impaled myself as hard and as deep as I could.

  “Christ.” His face tensed. He gave up.

  I followed him.

  Our rhythm turned frenzied, fucking and rutting and taking everything we could.

  “I’m with you,” I murmured just as my orgasm stole my voice and hurled me into the cacophony of explosions.

  Jethro’s eyes opened; we drowned in each other. His golden irises glimmered with everything he couldn’t say. The truth was a blazing thing, sharpening the bands of release, twisting my orgasm into something catastrophic.

  I screamed.

  It was the only thing I could do to expel the pleasure inside.

  I was swept away on a galaxy of popping stars. Starburst after starburst, comet after comet. I shattered utterly and completely.

  Jethro cried out, pressing his forehead against mine as hotness spilled inside. His body quaked as wave after wave of cum filled me. The tender ache in my womb both calmed and strengthened, welcoming him into my body.

  He’d come inside me.

  For the first time.

  On some basic level, I owned him. He’d mixed himself with me. He could never take that back.

  He was mine as much as I was his.

  Now and for always.

  Something else could be yours for being so stupid.

  I could get pregnant.

  My heart thudded with panic, but it was overshadowed by lingering waves of pleasure. I would have to deal with that—but not yet.

  Not now.

  It seemed as if our release went on forever, but it was only a few moments. A few scrumptious moments that healed and broke us.

  After the ebbs of orgasm faded, I uncramped my toes and sighed.

  Jethro unlocked his arms and withdrew. Wetness slid down my inner thigh as I puddled down his heated body. I could barely stand.

  Jethro shivered, tucking his glistening cock back into his boxer-briefs and zipping up his trousers. He was pulling away already. There was no chance I would let him. He couldn’t give me what he did and then shut down.

  Straightening my dress and scooping my knickers and dirk from the floor, I said, “You know, don’t you?”

  He stilled. “Know what?”

  “What I was thinking about as you found me.”

  I wasn’t prepared for the way his face softened or how his eyes turned into a warm sunrise of caring. “Yes. I know.”

  My heart pitter-pattered with fear. Would he use it as a tool to hurt me further or would he honour that my feelings were sacred and not to be toyed with?

  He ran a hand through his hair before cupping my cheek and smiling sadly. “Thank you, Nila. Thank you for what you’ve just given me.”

  With a single kiss and a heavy sigh, he disappeared.

  THAT NIGHT I had no urge to see Jasmine.

  No urge to fix myself or try to find my ice.

  I had no desire to change or hide or do any manner of things I’d done all my life to exist within my household.

  I was grateful.

  Beyond thankful.

  She cares for me.

  I’d felt it.

  I’d lived it.

  She’d poured the truth down my throat and taken all the wrongness inside away.

  I’d never been so happy than when I’d slid inside her. Never been so completely content holding her in my arms.

  I lay in bed and smiled, just for the beauty of smiling.

  I was at peace…for the first time.

  The only time.

  I was just…me.

  Jasmine was right.

  Nila had the power to cure me.

  She held something that after today I doubted I could ever live without.

  To be cared for so deeply.

  To be wanted so fiercely.

  Despite all my faults and downfalls, she welcomed me.

  She gave me a sanctuary deep enough and pure enough to hide in.

  My eyes burned with thanks. I wanted to shower her with gifts and promises. I relived the intoxicating joy of finding something so treasured.

>   You came inside her.

  My heart skipped at the thought. It was stupid of me to be so reckless, but in that moment, I couldn’t care less.

  It was perfect. I had to come inside her. I wouldn’t change a thing.

  Being with Nila today had allowed me to demolish my walls—be strong enough to drop my guard and take her with nothing bared.

  I gave her the truth.

  The truth of who I was.

  And in return, she gave me the strength to believe there might be a way after all.

  I might not have to continue hiding.

  I might finally be free.

  MY OLD HEART was broken.

  It’d been replaced with something not of flesh and blood but diamond and immortality.

  I’d fallen for a smuggler, a biker—a fiend.

  I’d fallen for a boy from my past, a man from my future—a friend.

  For four days after the polo match, I didn’t see Jethro. I didn’t try to find him or turn on my phone to message him. We had things to talk about¸ but I liked the newly blossomed connection too much to overthink it.

  I missed him but understood him.

  Understood what he’d be going through.

  For four days, I spent most of my time sewing and cutting out patterns for a sequence of gowns that would be the headline pieces of my new design. On a daily basis, my mind hurled profanities at me; reminding me that I lived on borrowed time. That the Hawks were not to be trusted. That I should run and never look back.

  But my heart argued just as loudly. Encouraging me to believe in what I’d found with Jethro. To trust that I had the power to change our fate. To give us a bit more time.

  I didn’t know how yet, but there could be a happy ending.

  There has to be.

  Hawksridge Hall was quiet—more so than normal. Most of the Black Diamond brothers, including the Hawks, were busy with a large shipment that I’d heard held a pink diamond weighing in excess of eighteen carats.

  I’d lingered in the dining room long enough to know that such a stone was almost priceless and would fetch untold millions on the black market.

  At night, I slept in my luxurious bed and pondered all things Jethro. I became self-absorbed—completely wrapped up in my feelings for him.

  A small part of me hated the woman I’d become. The old Nila would never have removed herself so completely from her family—especially Vaughn.

  But at the same time—they removed me.

  And Jethro had taken me in.

  However, there was no denying that my soul was torn and bruised.

  Jethro had given me everything beneath the grandstand that day, and by doing so, he robbed me of my hate and the power of injustice that kept me fighting every day.

  It wasn’t fair.

  It wasn’t right.

  But there was no changing the will of a Weaver’s heart.

  I was alone now. More so than when I’d first arrived.

  I would never be welcomed back with my family, never be able to return home.

  Jethro had successfully torn me from my past, stripped me of my mind, and abducted my heart.

  I wasn’t okay with that.

  I couldn’t be.

  And that was why I had to do the same to him.

  I stroked the diamonds around my neck. I’d come here believing I would never be strong enough to fight. But unbeknownst to Cut, he’d brought a disease into his home. Day-by-day, I undermined his foundations, stealing what was his from beneath him.

  I had the tools to continue to wreak havoc…all but one, that is.

  I needed one last thing to make my arsenal complete.

  It was time to know where Jethro disappeared to.

  It’s time to find out what exists behind the door on the second floor.

  I looked at the clock above the fish tank in my room. Just past midnight.

  I’d heard the men rumble off in a smog of motorcycle smoke an hour ago. If there were any night to investigate—tonight was it.

  The corridors would be empty, and Daniel would be far away from delivering his threats of harm.

  Resolution filled my veins. I sat up in bed and swung my legs over the side.

  It took me two minutes to pull on a pair of yoga pants and slip into an old hoody before collecting my ruby-encrusted dirk and shoving it down my waistband.

  With my heart thundering, I slipped out the door and padded down the corridor.

  My ears strained for night prowlers. I tiptoed to every corner and dashed quickly past cameras blinking above the large tapestries.

  Hawksridge Hall breathed deep and dreamless—vacant of its usual inhabitations, letting me slink beneath the moonlight undisturbed.

  I found the spiral staircase where Jethro had dragged me up and scurried to the top as fast as I could. If I stood at the bottom and deliberated, my bravery might desert me.

  My fingertip itched, almost as if it knew this was the floor where Jethro had etched his initials into my skin.

  I peered above the paintings, locking onto the flashing red lights of yet more cameras. There seemed to be more on this level…protecting something. Protecting what?

  I did my best to walk beneath them, to try to stay out of range, but I didn’t know the first thing about dodging a security feed.

  Jethro would know where I’d been.

  He’d be able to watch my every recorded movement. And even though I feared the retribution I might face, it didn’t stop me from sneaking to the door he’d knocked on.

  The moment I stood outside, my heart switched from pounding to frantic.

  What the hell are you doing?

  What did I think I would do? Knock and ask politely why Jethro came up here when he ran from me? Did I perhaps think I could turn invisible and snoop around a room while the woman I’d heard slumbered?

  You’re an idiot.

  I stood there dumbstruck. I should never have come.

  My lungs stuck together as something rustled on the other side of the door. A soft light seeped through the crack below, bathing the carpet in a warm glow.

  I swallowed my yelp as a shadow interrupted the light, pausing the same way I had.

  I took a step back. Stupid. So stupid, Nila.

  No one in this house was safe to go visiting on my own late at night. I wanted to slap myself for being so stupid. I’d put myself in moronic danger.

  My fingers reached for my pilfered knife.

  I turned to leave, fear dousing my blood with ice.

  The sooner I was back in my quarters, the safer I would be.

  “You can come in, you know,” a quiet feminine voice said.

  I froze.

  No one spoke, waiting for the other.

  A never-ending minute ticked past before the voice came again. “I won’t tell and I won’t hurt you. I can see you lurking outside my door. I have a camera mounted outside, so unless you want to run and pretend this never happened, I suggest you come in before my brothers or father find you up here.”

  My stomach rolled; a sickening wave of vertigo crippled me. I stumbled forward, grasping at the wall.

  I sucked in large breaths, repeating Vaughn’s poem for me.

  Find an anchor, hold on tight.

  Do that and you’ll be alright.

  The spell disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. It pissed me off. I thought I’d learned to control them better. Turned out my body was toying with me. Making me believe I had one less problem to worry about, when in reality, it was just biding its time.

  “You don’t look well. Come in. Please. Let’s talk.” The soft voice encouraged and seduced and I craved somewhere to sit for a moment.

  Gritting my teeth, I pressed down on the door handle and entered the room where Jethro visited.

  My eyes darted around the large space. Lemons and greys and colourful carpets. Sweeping fleur-de-lis silver curtains framed a huge wraparound window with a comfy seat big enough for a whole family of bookworms to curl up on and read.
r />   “You must be the new Weaver.”

  I bit my lip, spinning on the spot. I missed her in the first sweep. She’d been so still, so well hidden in the welcoming décor.

  I found her sitting beside her bed in a large chair covered by a coral blanket. “You needn’t fear. I’ll delete the recording. No one will know you came here.”

  I should’ve relaxed in gratitude. Instead, I stiffened.

  I stared at the female equivalent of Jethro. Out of all of Jethro’s siblings, his sister looked the most like him. Jethro was the diamond—sharp, faceted, and so pristinely perfect he shot rainbows from every angle. This woman was the mirror image. Her dark hair was sliced with precision, hanging like a silk curtain just past her jaw. Her eyes were more bronze than gold while her round cheeks and full lips were the direct contradiction of sweet but sultry.

  I drifted forward, stumbling a little as my vertigo played with the outskirts of my vision.

  The woman didn’t move, just waited for me to go to her.

  Her fingers locked together in her lap, her entire lower half covered by the plush blanket.

  When I stood awkwardly in front of her, she motioned toward her bed. The covers hadn’t been turned down and it didn’t look slept in. The crisp yellow of her linen looked like a lemon meringue pie and just as delicious.

  “Sit, please.”

  I sat. Not because of her order, but because my wobbly legs refused to stand any longer. Who was this woman, and why did she look at me as if she knew everything about me?

  I blushed.

  Everything?

  God, I hoped not. How could I face Jethro’s sister if she knew how much I wanted him? How could I look her in the eye knowing I’d had her brother inside me, and despite my conflicted emotions, wanted him every second of every damn day?

  “Do you talk or did you make a vow of silence before entering my room?” The woman cocked her head, her hair cascading perfectly in glossy heaviness.

  Shaking my head, I swallowed. “No. No, vow.”

  We stared at each other. Her assessing me and me assessing her. Two women of similar age, with a man in the centre polluting our right to be strangers. We’d only just met, but whatever we said would be weighed and found wanting, knowing we weren’t on equal footing.

  The thought depressed me.

  She held a permanent place in Jethro’s life. He openly adored her—I could tell just by looking at her.