Reaper's Property(34)

Let her go? Not likely. Still, he had to play out the game. At some point she’d talk to her brother again, and when she did, dickwad needed to hear the right message.
“No games, no bullshit,” he said. He stepped away, trying to calm down, then turned back toward her. She looked terrified, clutching her hands together, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly he felt like an *. “You do this, it’s your choice. I’m not raping you. You’re making a decision to pay for your brother’s mistake on your back. You get me?”
She stared at him, eyes full of condemnation. That shamed him, and he didn’t like the feeling. Anger felt better.
“I’m serious,” Horse said, glaring at her, daring her to defy him. Fighting would be better than just watching her silently sucking it up for her brother. Hell, he liked fighting with her. Made his dick stand up and take notice. “You call it off any time you want. I’m not gonna lock you up and watch you every minute. You make this deal, it’s up to you to keep it. And you don’t have to make the f*cking deal. Your brother’s an idiot and he knew what he was getting into. This isn’t your mess and it’s not your job to bail him out.”
“You trying to talk me out of it?” she asked with quiet dignity. “Well, you can’t. I meant what I said. I’d do anything for Jeff. Anything.”
Horse clenched his jaw and spun away from her, needing some kind of outlet for his anger and frustration before he did something really stupid. He kicked one of the trees and the throbbing pain in his foot helped him focus.
What exactly did he want from her, anyway? He needed her in his bed, in his house. She’d made it clear she wouldn’t end up there on her own. Was it his fault her brother was the biggest idiot on earth? Horse was offering them a lifeline, yet she judged him for it. Again. Just like she’d judged him for offering her a place as his old lady.
Stupid woman didn’t have the first clue what she needed but he’d give it to her anyway.
Hopefully ten times a day.

Horse watched as Marie dug through her closet. The room felt too small, he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t help that every time she leaned over, her shirt rode up and her pants pulled down, exposing the black line of a thong he wanted to rip off her body with his teeth.
His cock had gone from hard to painfully swollen. He adjusted it, trying to find a comfortable position, but the only place it wanted to be was pumping between her legs. Determined to drive him crazy, her ass wiggled at him every few seconds until he started to seriously wonder if he’d come in his pants. Marie pulled out a shoebox and tossed it on the bed. It spilled open and he sat down and flipped through the photos, desperate for a distraction. He saw shots of her when she was a teen, her and Jeff decked out in swimsuits as kids, arms around each other. There was a picture of her at a school dance… And there was her wedding picture.
Shit.
He pulled it out, noting the streaks of dried blood staining it. So this was Gary. The guy looked like every played-out, high school jock-turned-bully on earth. Big and meaty, he probably ran to fat now that he didn’t have a coach to kick his butt. He looked like an *, holding the sweet and delicate Marie in his hands like some kind of county fair prize. Marie was gorgeous, but way the f*ck too young. She wore a simple white dress and held a bouquet of daffodils. Douchebag wasn’t even wearing a suit. Everything screamed cheap-wedding-between-kids-way-too-young, but Horse still felt a powerful wave of jealousy.
Gary had taken that pretty girl in the picture home, pulled off her dress and f*cked her.
Should’ve killed the man when he had the chance.
Horse glanced over at Marie, who was still digging through the closet. Her thong teased him and he realized that she’d probably bought the damned thing for Gary—and she still had the picture of them together. The wave of jealousy turned tsunami, and Horse had a sudden vision of her meeting up with Gary, of him trying to change her mind about leaving. Women got back together with losers all the time.
“You wear that shit for him?” he asked, holding up the wedding picture. She looked blank.
“That butt floss,” he snapped. “Why the f*ck are you wearing a thong to work at a daycare? Are you seeing him again?”
“No!” she said, eyes wide. “I haven’t seen him since that last time, you should know that. He hasn’t called me, nothing. When I get all the papers ready, Denise’s husband said he’d serve them for me.”
Horse grunted, trying not to lose it. Of course she hadn’t seen him again, the man beat the shit out of her. Marie wasn’t stupid. And what about the * who’s kidnapping her? Horse wondered. What does she think of me? He pushed the thought away, focusing on the thong again—once they got home, he’d take her to Victoria’s Secret, get her all new shit. None of Gary’s sloppy seconds in his house.
“You keeping this?” he asked, looking at the picture.
“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t want to forget, at least not yet.”
He dropped the picture, disgusted, watching as she moved to her dresser. Every time she reached up, he caught flashes of her tiny little waist, swelling down into hips built to cradle his. Her figure was the ideal combination of small and curvy, every part adding up to perfection.
Horse wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. He needed a taste, just a taste. Now. He got up and stood behind her, taking her hips and pulling them back into his. Horse rubbed his cock against her butt, so aroused it caused him physical pain. He leaned into her, smelling her hair. Impossibly, his dick got harder.