Third Debt (Indebted #4)(79)



I owed him.

A lot.

And I would never ever forget it.





I LOVED MY oldest brother.

A f*ck ton.

I’d always believed I’d been brought into the world in order to save him from himself.

I’d never begrudged him or wished our roles were reversed. I knew the tightrope he walked every damn day and was happy to be scot-free and living my own easy life.

But when I’d removed Nila’s clothing and she’d stood there bound and blindfolded, I f*cking hated him.

I hated him for being too much of a *.

I hated his f*cking condition.

I just wished he wasn’t so damaged. That I didn’t love him as much as I did. That I didn’t know every single trial he’d been through and just how deep and strong he was—beneath the bullshit layered on him by Cut.

When I’d grabbed her and put her on the bed, I’d been so hard I could’ve killed someone with my cock. When I’d removed my clothes and slid in beside her, I could’ve come from the gentle friction alone. And when I’d slipped and felt her wet heat when I had no right to touch that part of her, I couldn’t stop it anymore.

I had to come.

I would disintegrate if I didn’t.

He’d asked me to do this.

This was his plan. Not mine.

When he’d come to me with his scheme, I’d told him. Full disclosure. I hadn’t held back. He knew that I found her f*cking gorgeous. He knew I found her spirit, sharp tongue, and stubbornness a huge turn-on. His temper had flared. His condition reacted. And he’d looked like he wanted to sucker-punch me then tear my dick off. But he’d come to the same conclusion I had.

There was no other way.

His heart had made the decision, and there was no other alternative.

So, we’d agreed. Against my better judgement, I’d promised. And against his instincts, he’d trusted me.

Unfortunately, tonight I’d betrayed that trust.

I wanted to f*ck her so badly. I wanted her writhing with pleasure and calling out my name. My name. Not his.

Seeing her bare dragged desires from me that I’d kept buried out of respect for Jet. He was my f*cking brother. We’d grown up together. There was no other loyalty stronger than that.

But Nila…

Shit.

When I’d undone my belt and stepped from my boxers, I’d wanted to tear off her blindfold and show her who would be taking her. I wanted her to look at me. Truly see me. I wanted her eyes on my cock and her breath on my skin. I wanted her to look at me the way she looked at my brother.

My dick was harder than it’d been since I’d had a foursome with some club bunnies. I craved Nila with every cell, but I didn’t want her for my own.

I wanted to ‘borrow’ her. Taste her—just once live in my brother’s shoes and have what he had. Was that so wrong? Was it so scandalous to want a piece of his inheritance?

I could answer my own question.

Yes, it was wrong. Yes, it was scandalous. And no, I would never go behind my brother’s back.

He’d given me permission to do this. He’d begged me to do this.

I hadn’t asked for payment or demanded anything in return.

Nila was gift enough.

When her tongue had tentatively touched mine, I’d wanted to grab her hair and kiss her with abandon.

Fuck the debts.

Fuck the family.

For once, I wanted what I wanted for me—not for any other reason.

But I was too damn honourable. Too well trained in hierarchy and fidelity.

I couldn’t do it.

She was so pretty. So tiny. Her stomach so flat and her small breasts the perfect handful. She truly was a doll. A woman I could easily fall for if I wasn’t a loyal Hawk.

Discipline and primogeniture—it’d all taught me my place from day one. But my love for Jethro…that was the padlock on coveting anything I might want.

Touching her * had been the hardest part of all. I’d almost f*cked up and lost myself. It would’ve been so easy to open her arse cheeks and slip inside her—like Cut expected me to.

There was nothing worse than having a naked woman, with expectations to f*ck her, when I couldn’t. But no matter how hard it was for me, it killed me to think of him watching.

I was doing this for him—but every thrust and moan from Nila would’ve torn his f*cking heart out. Pills or no, he wouldn’t get through tonight without some serious problems.

Nila didn’t know it—but she’d broken him completely.

And I’d been the conductor for his destruction.

Every sweep of my hands up her sides and every press of my fingers on her clit, I forced myself to remember who I was ultimately doing this for.

It was the only way I could continue.

However, then she’d given me permission. She’d understood my intentions and gave into me.

She let me come.

And I’d never been more f*cking grateful.

Ever since she’d arrived, I’d been hypnotised by her dark eyes and the simplistic honesty of her truth.

I’d never seen a more perfect woman.

And when I said perfect woman. I meant for him, not for me.

He needed someone pure. Someone transparent and honest. He needed unconditional-no-bullshit-love. No lies. No tricks. Clarity and understanding.

Pepper Winters's Books