He’d called me Nila.
I’d won. I’d somehow made him say my name.
My heart winged just as surely as my core flickered with desire.
Say it again.
Let me hear the bliss of winning.
Jethro’s eyes widened, noticing his slip, then furious temper etched his face. He stormed forward, threading his fingers around my throat. The smooth edges of his control were now jagged with temper.
I backed up until the bed stopped my escape. Jethro followed, his fingers tightening around my neck. “Tell me, goddammit. What the fuck are you trying to do?”
My heart hurt at the indecipherable expression in his gaze. He hid himself so well. The brief flashes of truth I’d gleaned didn’t add up. I was fishing for something that didn’t exist.
It does exist. Keep pushing.
My eyes were heavy, body pulsing with rapidly building lust. “I just want….”
There was no point to this argument. It was over before it began.
“I need…”
To know you are capable of caring, just a little.
For you to want me, just a little.
For you to find something inside me that prevents you from killing me.
It was like wishing for Pegasus to fly in and whisk me away. I wouldn’t get anything I wished for. Whatever I felt for Jethro was misplaced, ill-advised, and false. I’d seen him hunt me. I’d seen his cold enjoyment of talking about taking my life. Everything else that I thought I’d seen had been a lie.
He breathed hard, his scent of woods and leather surrounding me.
My hands flew up to hold his, trying to pry his fingers off. “Just…forget it. Let me go. Forget I was stupid enough to say anything.”
Jethro dropped his hands, pacing away. “Forget it? You’re the one bringing it up. Time and time again, you bring it up. I’m fucking sick of you asking me to kiss you.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he added, “You’re the one ruining the agreement between us.”
“What agreement?”
“The debts, Ms. Weaver! That’s all we’re meant to do. I don’t care about your wellbeing or emotional satisfaction. Sex between us is meant to be a punishment, yet you keep making it seem like a reward. A fucking delicious reward.”
His jaw clenched at another slip, his features blackening. “You ruined a straight-forward obligation by trying to fucking kiss me in that coffee shop! This is all your fault. If you’d just been fucking petrified of me, then this would’ve been easy!”
My head shot up. Jethro was close to losing it. His eloquence became littered with curses.
“Easy? You think this would’ve been easy? None of this would’ve been easy, Jethro—for either of us. Even if I’d been crying in the corner every time you came to harass me, it wouldn’t have been better. It would’ve just been different.”
Jethro exploded. “It would’ve been better than me fighting a fucking battle every damn day with how much I want to fuck you!”
My heart swooped, nipples pebbling with the tormented need in his voice.
“Don’t you think I have the same problem? How can I live with the knowledge that I hate you, that you’re my future killer, yet I can’t stop my body from craving you? Don’t you think I hate the fact that you make me wet against my wishes?”
Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.
Jethro froze, panting hard.
The silence was deafening.
Sighing, I tugged my plait. “Look, I tried to kiss you that night in the coffee shop because for the first time in my life, my father gave me freedom. Can I help it I found you attractive? We’re suffering the same pain. Our bodies want what the mind knows it shouldn’t. It’s the law of chemistry, and I refuse to let you put this disaster on me. You’re the one who stole me. You’re the one in control of my fate. If this is anyone’s fault—it’s yours!”
The atmosphere changed, shedding its brittle battle for heavy heat and intoxication.
His lips twitched. “You found me attractive?”
God, he was so obtuse.
I couldn’t stop the insane laugh bubbling from my mouth. “Do you honestly think I would’ve sucked you in the forest? Do you think I would’ve writhed on someone else’s fingers the way I did yours? I’m sexually starving but I’m not so desperate to allow someone to touch me unless I want them to!”
I clamped a hand over my lips. Shit. Another thing I hadn’t meant to say. That was a lie I was hiding unsuccessfully, even from myself. Sex with Jethro was supposed to be a weapon. Whenever I thought of him touching me, it was to win—not to give in to my overpowering urges.
I wanted to take from him. Not enjoy what he’d give me.
Jethro prowled closer, pinning me against the pole of the four-poster bed. His body heat sparked hot and dangerously close to mine. His hands opened and closed at his side. So close. So temptingly close.
“This is getting interesting, Ms. Weaver. You mean to tell me you want my cock? You want me to…fuck you?”
My stomach twisted. Wetness built in my core as the argument switched from exposing his weaknesses to exposing mine.
I bit my lip, refusing to answer.
He smirked, his eyes dropping to my mouth. His lips parted as his breathing turned heavy and ragged. “Tell me what you want from me. You have my undivided attention.”
All the frustration from dealing with Kite came back. Despite the crudeness of our sexting, I missed messaging. Talking dirty fanned the need inside, amplifying the sexual burn. I had no reprieve from living an endless torture with a man who meant to kill me. A man my body wanted more than anything. A man who gave me the gift of pleasure—who would always be wrapped up in some twisted way in my soul.
I embraced the heat of anger, glaring into Jethro’s golden eyes.
Don’t do this.
You’ll get hurt. Terribly hurt.
I couldn’t stop myself.
“I told you what I want. Kiss me.” My arms swooped up, looping around his neck.
He reared back, breaking my hold. His chest rose and fell as he breathed hard. His eyes were almost black with need. Need I was sure reflected in mine. “Stop asking that, damn you.” He snapped, “Why would I stoop to kissing you? A kiss is emotion. A kiss is a weakness.” Placing his hands on either side of me, he grabbed the post and murmured, “I’ve told you time and time again; a kiss is not something you’ll get from me.”
I moved forward, pressing my chest against his until he broke away. He stepped backward; it was my turn to stalk him for a change. “A kiss is nothing. What are you so afraid of?”