First Debt (Indebted #2)(56)

Her brother nothing but demanding and dominant.

Her father nothing but pleading and clinging.

But Kite…

He brought out the best in Nila. And I brought out the f*cking worst.

I shook my head, unable to stop the chuckle breaking through my lips. Why hadn’t I seen it? Why hadn’t I understood it before now? I was a f*cking idiot.

Nila crossed her arms, glaring pure death. “Are you done laughing at my personal life?”

I stopped chuckling, embracing vacancy once again. “What makes you think I’m laughing at you, Ms. Weaver?”

The moment I spoke her name, the fight, the intoxicating addictive need to battle with her broke free from the prison inside.

Goddammit, it seemed the only time I could be free was to stay away from her. But the only time I was alive was to provoke and drink in her kitten-like wrath like an elixir of life.

Fuck, I’m screwed.

For the first time, I acknowledged it. Not with hatred or fear or frustration—just accepted that Nila Weaver was a force I couldn’t control, and as much as I would like to deny it, she had a power over me.

Jasmine had seen it.

That was what my sister meant.

But I’d been too much of an arsehole to listen.

Tomorrow, you’re going back to your sister and talking this through.

I needed answers. And she was the only one who I trusted enough to give me unbiased, pure direction. We were the black sheep of the Hawk family, and for that one reason, we’d become close. Kes was my best friend—until recently, of course—but my sister was my rescuer.

Not that my father knew, or even my grandmother, who kept Jasmine far away from us men and our contamination.

No one knew the bond my sister and I shared.

Just like no one knew the bond Nila and I shared.

Both were secret.

And both meant more to me than any other relationship I’d ever had.

Shit.

Running a hand through my hair, I placed her phone on my desk.

Nila never took her gaze from the device. “You seem to laugh at everything I do, so it’s only rational to think my messages entertained you to no end.”

I had to do what I came in here to do before I lost all focus and allowed Nila to drag forth everything I’d worked so hard to swallow.

I murmured, “You’re tempting destruction, Ms. Weaver.” My breathing turned shallow as I moved around the desk and captured the ends of her long hair, twirling them around my fingertips.

There was something about her hair. Something that called to the feral part of me that wanted the strands on my cock as she sucked me, or better yet, stuck to my sweaty chest after I’d come deep inside her.

Those fantasies had not helped clear my head. The past fortnight, they’d only gotten worse. And I refused to f*cking service myself. However, I couldn’t stomach the thought of calling in a substitute.

Just like I had Nila’s hair wrapped around my little finger, she had me wrapped around hers.

“Nila. My name is Nila. You might as well call me that, seeing as I’ve had your cock in my mouth and your tongue between my legs. Nothing like tasting each other to be on a first-name basis, huh, Jethro?”

I tugged her hair. “Quiet.”

“No chance.”

My eyes widened. Who was this woman? Taunting me, poking me while her body trembled with anger. It was almost as if she wanted me to explode. To hurt her. To retaliate.

Maybe she does?

Perhaps she felt the same way I did—a connection in our arguments, a freedom to give into the overwhelming emotions that didn’t need to make sense when in the heat of a fight.

How did I think I could maintain this persona I’d created? This suave sophistication that I’d successfully worn for so many years?

My time was up.

And it would remain up until Nila was gone.

I swallowed hard at the thought of her disappearing.

My eyes fell on the diamond collar. “I could make you, but I think you’d just like it.”

As long as the collar remained around her neck, she was alive. As long as the diamonds glinted and drenched her in rainbows, she would be there to torment me.

And day by day, she would make me weaker.

And weaker.

Until one day, I would lose it all.

It can’t happen.

But what could I do to prevent it?

Make her hate you. Make her despise you.

Then it would be against my will, even if I suddenly wanted a change of heart.

“Everything you do to me I hate,” she hissed.

Crowding her against the desk, I murmured, “Everything?” My eyes fell to her lips. What I wouldn’t give to just f*cking kiss her. I’d wanted to kiss her for weeks.

Her mouth parted, breath turning soft and quick. “Yes, everything.”

Temper swirled in the room, heating the space. “You seem to enjoy the anticipation of me kissing you.”

She snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Capturing her chin, I dug my fingers into her cheeks. “If I kissed you right now, you’d let me do whatever the hell I wanted.”

She struggled, eyes sparkling with black ferocity. “Kiss me and I’ll bite you.”

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of our fight, but f*ck if it didn’t make me feel more alive than I had in two weeks.