Second Debt (Indebted #3)(13)

Grow a pair, f*ckwit, and forget about whatever connection you thought you had.

Nila spun around; her cheeks dotted red with rage. “Last night! You dare talk to me about last night? Where I spent the evening mourning family members that were subjected to the likes of you?”

The weakness she conjured inside switched to fury. I stormed forward, towering over her. “I told you not to go up the path, Ms. Weaver. Whatever you’re feeling is your fault, not mine.” Moving fast, I snatched her elbow and jerked her from the bench. “Enough. I’m done reliving something I had no part in.” Shaking her, I dragged her from the puddle of fabric heading for the exit.

My fingers tingled from touching her. My lungs eagerly inhaled the unique scent of cotton, chalk, and Nila. If I wasn’t so damn angry, her smell would’ve entranced me. It would’ve granted a tiny oasis from everything else I dealt with.

“Let go of me, you arsehole!” She squirmed in my hold.

“No, not until you learn how to behave.”

“How about you learn to behave, you cold-hearted-emotionally-screwed-up-jerk!”

I slammed to a halt. “Careful, Ms. Weaver.”

She stabbed me in the chest with her fingertip, a maniacal laugh escaping her perfect lips. “God, you’re—I don’t know what you are. I think your rule of not letting people call you mad or insane is because it isn’t a slur, but the truth. You’re bonkers, Jethro Hawk. And you can hit me for saying it—but it’s about time someone pointed out the obvious.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “You’re a nutcase. Completely cuckoo.”

I’d never suffered a barrage of words so f*cking painful.

Grabbing her by the diamond collar, I shoved her backward until her spine hit the wall. Dropping my head so my mouth lingered above hers, I whispered, “And you’re the Weaver who let a psychotic Hawk between your legs. You’re the one who’s damned, not me. I have an excuse for what I am. You? You have no excuse but getting wet all over—what did you call me—a nutcase Hawk.”

Her lips twisted into a snarl. I tensed for her barrage.

Our eyes locked with fury.

Then something happened.

Something switched.

Fury became desire.

Desire became insanity.

I couldn’t withstand the command.

“Fuck this.”

I kissed her.

She cried out as my lips slammed down on hers. In a seamless move, I pressed my entire body along Nila’s twisting one, pinning her unforgivingly against the wall. My leg jammed between hers, opening her wide, crushing my thigh against her clit.

Her mouth hung slack for a second as her hips involuntarily rocked on my leg. My stomach twisted and everything I’d been trying to hide rose up completely out of control.

Heat.

Wetness.

Hardness.

An ache so f*cking brutal in my chest it almost brought tears to my eyes.

Then pain.

I reared back as Nila’s sharp teeth punctured my bottom lip. I licked the tender flesh. She’d broken the skin.

Blood.

Metallic.

Life.

Her chest rose and fell; her eyes wild and sending messages that tripped and conflicted. She felt what I did. But she hated me for it.

Too bad. I had to have more.

I grabbed her, smashing our bodies together and reclaiming her mouth. Offering my blood, forcing her to drink my injury and share my bone-deep pain.

She wriggled and fought, but beneath her rage echoed the same mind-crippling desire that turned us from enemies into something more.

“Stop—” she moaned before my tongue danced with hers, stealing her curses. In her arms, feeling nothing but heat and passion, I could pretend life was simpler. There were no debts, no arguments, no families, no hatred.

Just us.

Just this.

Nila stopped fighting and kissed me back. She vibrated in my arms, her hands pushing and pulling at once. Her lips opened to scream or beg, but I silenced her by tangling my tongue deeper with hers.

She fought me.

She encouraged me.

She confused the shit out of me.

My mind roared and instinct took over reason. I thrust against her, grinding my aching cock, seeking relief from the annihilating greed to consume her.

Her back arched as I shoved her against the wall—harder and harder. I wanted to crawl inside her. I wanted to own her every thought.

Agony erupted in my balls.

“Fuck!” My stomach swooped and my gut roiled as if to vomit. Stumbling away, I clutched my cock, willing the blistering pain to ebb.

She kneed me!

Over the stupefying pain, I barely noticed Nila encroaching on me. Her breath was ragged, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes blazed with an odd mixture of lust and hate. “Don’t touch me, Jethro Hawk. You might have been between my legs. I might’ve let you inside my body, but I will never let you inside my soul. Not now.”

I hissed between my teeth, riding the waves of torrid agony. I couldn’t stand straight.

Nila bent over to whisper in my ear. “I might not have fangs, but I do have a sharp knee.” With infinitesimal softness, she brushed away the hair that’d flopped over my forehead. Her touch was tender, loving, but beneath it lurked the truth.

Something was missing inside her.

Something that drew me to her and made me believe.