Second Debt by Pepper Winter
is LIVE!
Read the dark & sexy continuation to Jethro & Nila’s
Story!
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Second Debt (Book Three) Indebted Series
Blurb
“I tried to play a game. I tried to wield deceit as
perfectly as the Hawks. But when I thought I was winning, I wasn’t. Jethro
isn’t what he seems—he’s the master of duplicity. However, I refuse to let him
annihilate me further.”
Nila Weaver has grown from naïve seamstress to full-blown
fighter. Every humdrum object is her arsenal, and sex…sex is her greatest
weapon of all.
She’s paid the First Debt. She’ll probably pay more.
But she has no intention of letting the Hawks win.
Jethro Hawk has found more than a worthy adversary in
Nila—he’s found the woman who could destroy him. There’s a fine line between
hatred and love, and an even finer path between fear and respect.
The fate of his house rests on his shoulders, but no matter
how much ice lives inside his heart, Nila flames too bright to be extinguished.
5 Stars
This is the best of the series so far. They do need to be read in order. This is the third book in the series. They are darker reads.
In the second book, First Debt, we saw a lot of changes in
Nila. And a lot of emotions. This book is no different. Nila is still changing. When she breaks, I didn't know if she would
come back from it. She does, and she's
even stronger afterwards.
But what happens when she starts falling for her captor and
enemy?
"You're falling for him. You're falling for him. You're falling for him, I wasn't. I couldn't.
I'm not!"
Nila isn't the only one changing. Jethro also is going through drastic changes. We find out that he is actually Kite. I'm still curious about his
"curse". Is his curse that he
isn't a monster like his family and he actually can feel?
After reading the ending I absolutely need the next book
ASAP!
Excerpt #1
I’D TAKEN HER, but ultimately, she’d taken me.
I’d tried to destroy her, but serendipitously, she’d
destroyed me.
This was the beginning of the end.
Not the end of my feelings for her but the way of my life,
my world.
Something would have to change.
Something would have to give…
…
Someone would have to die.
I EXISTED WITH a brain full of betrayal, schemes, and
plotting.
Living with the Hawks was utterly exhausting. Every day was
a challenge to figure out the truths from the lies. But no matter how hard I
worked, I could never seem to unravel reality from fiction.
He’d won.
And with a winner came a loser. One triumphant and one
depressed. A trophy over misery.
Two days had passed since Kestrel had granted the truth to
one huge mystery. Two days in which I hadn’t been able to think of anything
else.
I wanted to hate Jethro for duping me—for stringing me along
like an idiot.
But whenever my anger boiled over, needing desperately to
confront him, I remembered one thing.
One important, vital thing.
He’d initiated contact before he was told.
He’d communicated with me almost as if it were a cry for
help, rather than a plot to deceive.
If this were another trick, then so help him, I’d find a way
to castrate him.
But, somehow, I didn’t think it was.
I had a horrible feeling this was the one way that he would
let me in. An avenue of truths that he felt comfortable enough to continue,
because a silent written word didn’t have as much weight as a loudly spoken
one.
Which brought me back to my vitally important conclusion:
Jethro wants to be honest.
He wanted to stop playing charades and show me everything he
kept hidden.
He wanted to talk to someone. Perhaps, for the first time in
his life, he wasn’t satisfied with the hand life dealt him and…
Stop fabricating excuses.
All day, I’d been coming up with theories on why he was how
he was and reading too far into things that he’d done.
It could be as simple as: he’d been told to get in touch.
Told to initiate contact in a way that could potentially mould me into a more
submissive captive, especially if I were to believe he was on my side.
I wanted to believe he’d acted against his father. But no
matter how much I wished it, it didn’t make it was true.
How do you explain the knowing then?
I slouched against my pillows in bed. That was true. A part
of me just seemed to know. Call it either sheer idiocy or feminine intuition. I
believed he’d texted me because I was the first outsider permitted into his
world—the only one not a Hawk.
My brain hurt.
When we were alone, when we weren’t arguing or fighting,
there was an enchanting calmness. A connection.
Closing my eyes, I let my mind skip back to Kes’s unwilling
promise. The way his eyes had darkened with secrets as I’d collapsed into his
arms from the vertigo spell two days ago.
“Nila?”
A crushing headache appeared from nowhere. It was the most I
could do to stay present and not permit my mind to relive every text Jethro had
sent to see the hidden agendas now that I knew it was him.
“I’m—I’m okay. You can let me go.” I struggled out of Kes’s
embrace, my skin humming from his touch. I needed some space. I needed a world
full of space to get over the treachery and lies.
“You didn’t know? You hadn’t guessed?” Kes crossed his arms,
never taking his golden eyes from mine.
I glowered. “How could I know? I thought the messages were
from you!”
He flinched. “Yes, that was the plan. To make you believe it
was me, so he could continue on with whatever little mind games he was
playing.” Leaning closer, he added, “I haven’t been privy to any of the
messages he sent you or you sent him—so don’t feel like I’ve intruded on
details that I shouldn’t.”
Anger infused my blood. “If you were both in on it—why
didn’t he show you the messages? Why were you so nice to me? What does all of
this mean?”
Kes moved away, reclining against a sapling. “I was nice
because that’s just who I am. Yes, I come from a family with twisted up morals
and I’m loyal to those twisted up morals, but I also did it out of loyalty to
my brother. If you’re pissed, direct it all on him. Not me.”
“Oh, believe me. I’m pissed. Beyond pissed.” My hands balled
as my mind filled with crazy ideas of retribution and revenge. I would make him
pay.
“I’d cool down before you spring it on him. Best to keep it
quiet. Cut doesn’t know. It was just me who knew Jet had been in touch with you
before he was given the go-ahead to collect you in Milan.”
I froze. “Why did he initiate conversation with me almost
five weeks before he could claim me?”
Kes shook his head. “The day I understand my brother is the
day I’ll gamble my entire inheritance on the stock market. I can’t work him
out. The only thing I can do is be there for him. And I only found out ‘cause
he changed pretty much around the same time he started messaging you. Something
was different—we’re close. So, I saw it before the others.”
My brain throbbed trying to figure out just what had changed
in Jethro. He’d seemed the perfect Hawk when he’d come to collect me. Cold as
ice and deadly as a sword.
Now that I knew his secret, I had power. And I had no
intention of giving that power back. Jethro had been playing me for far too
long. He’d successfully screwed with my head. It was time for payback. “Don’t
tell him that I know.”
Kes’s eyes popped wide. “Pardon?”
“You heard me. Don’t tell Jethro about today. Let him
continue to think I’m clueless.” My heart frothed with rage and unhappiness. I
was so stupid to believe I’d gotten through to him on some level. The sex
between us left both of us stripped bare. Something more than family feuds and
hatred existed when he slid inside me and sent both of us shattering into dust.
I’d let him inside me. In so many ways. It was my turn to do
the same.
“You know I can’t do that, Nila. As welcome as you are in
our household, and as much as I like hanging out with you, I can’t betray Jet.
Not after everything he’s been through.”
I pounced on the small thread of truth about my tormentor.
“What has he been through, Kes? Tell me and I’ll march back to the Hall right
now and tell him myself.”
Kes shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet my eyes. “Slip
of the tongue. Forget it.”
Crossing my arms, I hissed, “Fine. Seeing as you’re so
capable of keeping secrets, keep this one for me.”
Kes scowled. “Keeping my own flesh and blood’s issues hidden
isn’t the same thing as helping out a Weaver.”
My heart raced. If Jethro hadn’t taught me how to stand up
for myself, I would’ve cowered at the thought of being so pushy with a
full-grown man all alone in a forest. Now, I was raging and fully intended to
get my own way. “Give me two weeks. Two weeks before you tell him that I know.
Do that and I’ll be forever grateful.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat. “How can you be forever
grateful when forever isn’t something anyone has.”
Especially me, seeing as my lifespan was destined to be
significantly shorter than his.
“Just…please, Kestrel. One favour.”
It took him a while to give in. His allegiance to his
brother was strong.
Finally, he huffed. “Fine. But it won’t save you from his
temper when he finds out.”
However, I had no intention of suffering Jethro’s wrath. I
had every right to deceive him after he did it to me. My revelations were
safe—for now. I trusted that Kes wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t know why, but
on some level I did trust Kes—just enough to use him in my plans. And I was
fully committed to tripping Jethro up.
It was his turn to divulge things he might not have if he’d
known the truth. Hiding behind the pretence that Kite was Kes had made him
softer the past few weeks. I would use that chink to make the crevice I’d been
trying to form since I gave him a blowjob after hunting me down.
I couldn’t think about anything else. I couldn’t focus on
sketching, sewing, reading.
Nothing.
My brain was a whirly-gig of Jethro. Kite. Jethro. Kite.
And I’d had enough.
Throwing myself out of bed after another sleepless night, I
wrenched back the curtains and glowered at the dismal weather.
The watery dawn did nothing to inspire either anger or
contentment. The sky was grey. Fog looked like haunting ghosts, threading its
ghoulish tentacles over the lower woodland of the estate. No birds chirped or
sun shone.
Summer had truly abandoned us. The bite in the air shouted
‘go back to bed where it’s warm’ but my brain had no such intention.
I hadn’t relaxed for two days. I’d stared at my phone,
determined to text Jethro and trip him into revealing everything he kept
secret, only to stare blankly at an empty message.
Now that I knew it was him, my willingness to show so much
had gone. Knowledge was power and he had too much of mine already. How could I
dig deeper into his mystery while maintaining all of mine?
The answer—I couldn’t. And that made me incredibly nervous.
To find out who he truly was, I had to show everything that made me real. And
despite the emotional growth spurt I’d endured at the hands of the Hawks, I
wasn’t ready to evolve again. I’d lost so much of myself already—how much was I
prepared to leave behind before I became a perfect stranger?
“Ah!” I dug my fingers into my hair. I needed a reprieve
from my racing thoughts, and I knew exactly how to do it.
Mother Nature’s sudden urge to switch seasons from summer to
winter couldn’t stop my itch.
I needed fresh air, and I needed it now.
Racing around my room in the new Weaver quarters where
Jethro had made me beg and come apart with his cock deep inside me, I found my
black spandex shorts and highlighter pink sports bra. Pulling the clothing on,
followed by my sneakers, I quickly smoothed my hair into a bun, and shot from
the room.
I hadn’t worn my exercise gear since the morning of the
Milan runway show. I’d sprinted until I’d collapsed off the treadmill at the
hotel, hoping I could dispel my anxiety enough to hide my stupid nerves and prevent
a vertigo spell in front of the press.
It had worked—mainly. Until Jethro arrived, of course.
The moment when I’d set eyes upon him, I’d been done for.
He’d been so dashing with his suit, tie, and diamond pin. So perfectly refined
with his elegant haircut, chiselled physique, and sculptured lips. Even though
his soul was dark, his body had summoned me.
He’d called to me, and like the stupid Weaver I was, I’d
followed him blindly.
Now, it’s his turn to follow my whims, my rules.
Jogging down the corridor, my racing mind and temper eased,
already reacting to the stress relief I’d sought all my life.
I need him out.
It wasn’t fair. I was supposed to seduce him and make him
care for me—not the other way around. I wasn’t supposed to fall for my own
games.
Lust was as dangerous as love. Only it was worse because it
had the power to make even the worst ideas seem plausible—and even
recommended—when a sexual reward was given.
The moment Jethro gave in and kissed me, I’d betrayed more
than just myself. I’d betrayed my entire family line and all the Weaver women
who’d died before me.
I had feelings for him.
A dangerous softness toward my would-be-killer.
It has to end.
I had to find a way to seduce him…to make him love me, all
while I kept my heart frigid and locked away in an ice fortress.
I laughed under my breath. You sound just like him. I wanted
to turn into the female equivalent of his glacial shell.
Only, ice wasn’t impervious. Ice melted and succumbed to
fire.
I’d proven that over the past month.
The house breathed around me with gentle heartbeats only
ancient dwellings could have. Spirits of past generations lived in its walls,
revenants danced in the drapery, and figments of long forgotten lovers floated
through the tapestries.
A grandfather clock tick-tocked as I jogged past, showing
the time at six thirty a.m.
After being privy to the business meetings with Kes and the
Black Diamonds, I knew the men never got up this early. They worked late,
dealing with shipments and the transportation of stones worth more than any
dress I could sew. Darkness was their asset, the sun their foe.
At least I could run and be back before anyone tried to stop
me.
I didn’t want them to draw the wrong conclusion that I was
trying to escape again. I blinked as I ran head first into a horrendous
conclusion.
Even if you found the boundary this morning, you wouldn’t
leave.
My heart thumped harder at the tangled web I lived.
Freedom was something I wanted more than anything. But even
if I escaped the Hawks, I would only run back into the trap of pity and
vertigo. I wanted more than that. I deserved more than that.
If I found the estate edge, I wouldn’t disappear. I
couldn’t.
My captivity wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about the
future. It was about Jethro.
Admit it…
It was about living.
The passion, the intensity, the blazing ferocity of existing
with enemies and plotting beneath their noses was a much worthier cause than
sitting at home sewing for the masses.
This was about me. Me standing up for myself, and for a future
I wanted, not a future already planned for me.
This was about so many twisted things.
I wrenched open the French doors at the end of the corridor
and stumbled into the foggy dawn. Fresh air welcomed me and I found a reprieve
from my scrambled thoughts.
I can’t forget my ultimate plan.
No matter how Jethro endeared himself to me—giving me
glimpses of someone barely coping inside his wintry armor—I wasn’t going to
forget my goal.
Freedom.
Not just for myself, but for the rest of my legacy. My
children and their children and their children’s children would never have to
go through this. I intended to be the last Weaver stolen.
It’s time for a new debt—one that owes us life, not death.
Sucking in lungfuls of crisp air, I steeled myself in what I
had to do. In order to win, I had to guard my soul. I had to play along with
Jethro’s mind games and hope to God I won first.
A cool breeze whistled through the trees, sounding like
haunted laments. I shivered, wishing I’d brought a jacket.
You’ll be sweating in ten minutes. Ignore it.
Gritting my teeth against the cold, I bent over and
stretched my quads. The tug and slow release of muscles was heaven after the
stress of the past few days.
My body hummed with the knowledge it was about to run.
And run.
And run.
For fun this time, not for survival.
Bouncing on the spot, I rolled my shoulders, eyeing up the
sweeping lawn before me. If I went right, I’d loop around the stables. If I
went left, I’d cut through the sprawling rose garden and orchards.
Go straight.
Down the meandering path that disappeared over the horizon.
I switched from bouncing to jogging.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” a cool voice
whispered through the silver fog.
I wrenched to a stop, peering behind me.
No one.
“I thought you’d realised running wasn’t a viable option,
Ms. Weaver.”
His icy voice sent a strange mixture of hot and cold desire
down my spine. Jethro morphed into being, seeming to solidify from the mist
like a terrible poltergeist. He leaned against one of the pillars holding up the
portico, crossing his arms.
My heart collapsed, unable to untangle the maze of hypocrisy
between us. My skin begged for his touch. My lips tingled for his. Every inch
of me craved what he could deliver.
Heat. Passion. An eruption that I felt in every cell.
But none of that was real.
And I refused to believe in trickery any longer.
Mirroring his body language, I crossed my arms. “I realise
escaping isn’t a viable option. But I’m not escaping. I’m running. Running is
my only option to escape the mess you’ve made.”
His jaw clenched. “The mess I’ve made?”
“Yes.” I took a step backward as he advanced. “You’re
messing me up, and I’m done playing whatever it is that you’re doing.” I sucked
in courage and embraced honesty. It seemed to work around him, and I needed him
to see how serious I was. How hurt I was with his deception.
He’s Kite.
Bastard.
Baring my teeth, I said, “It seems I have a weakness for
you, but I changed my mind. I don’t—”
A low growl escaped him. “A weakness? You call what happened
between us a fucking weakness?”
My breathing ratcheted as if I’d already run two miles. “The
worst kind of weakness.”
He smiled, but no mirth entered his gaze. If anything, his
golden eyes were luminous with anger. “You’re the one who started it…Nila.”
I gasped at the delicious decadence of my name on his lips.
The sound echoed in his mouth, shooting straight to my core.
Shit.
Jethro advanced again, his body trembling with barely veiled
lust. “You’re the one who created this problem.” His hand came up, fingers
slinking through my tied-up hair, tightening around the back of my skull. “I
can’t hear the name Weaver without getting fucking hard. I can’t even think of
you without boiling with need.”
His nose brushed against mine, his lips so damn close to
stealing all my scrambled plans and sending me headfirst into a life of
debauchery.
“You should never have said those two words, Ms. Weaver. I
told you. We’re both fucked now.”
My mind was blank, every synapse focusing on his fingers in
my hair and his mouth only millimetres from mine. “What two words?”
He chuckled. The sound was self-deprecating and almost
morbid with dark intensity. “Kiss me.”
I shivered in his hold. “You’re reminding me of what started
this mess, or you’re asking me to kiss you?”
Ask me. And I will. God, how I will.
I’d kiss him until I’d stripped him of his arctic armor and
destroyed it, I’d lick him until I tasted his truth, and I’d bite him until I’d
eaten every morsel of his soul.
I’d do all that so he had nowhere left to hide.
We stood wrapped in foggy silence. The drawn out
anticipation of a kiss turned my legs to jelly. If he pressed his mouth to
mine, I wouldn’t be going for my run. I would climb his body and impale myself
on his cock.
Fakery be damned.
Kite’s messages and deceit be damned.
I just wanted a raw connection—with this man, who made my
soul whimper for wrongness.
Jethro’s tongue slipped between his lips, hypnotising me.
Then…he let me go. “No, I’m not asking you to kiss me. I won’t ever ask
anything from you.”
I flinched as if he’d slapped me. “Why not?”
“Because I own you. Everything I want will be given, not
requested.”
Double shit.
I should hate him. I should smite him. So, why did his every
word seduce me, even while I knew his morals were chauvinistic and heartless?
Forcing my body to obey, I shoved the weakness I had for him
as far away as possible. My eyes trailed down his front. He wore tan jodhpurs,
black riding boots, and a tweed jacket. The bulge between his legs looked heavy
and far too dangerous to be legal.
“You’ve been riding.”
A gentle gust of early morning air blew his scent directly
into my nose. I inhaled, soaking my lungs in hay, horse, and all things Jethro.
He nodded, crossing his arms once again. “You run. I ride.
Seems we have something else in common.”
Something other than being forced into this debt and finding
each other irresistible, you mean?
“Oh, what’s that?”
Jethro stepped closer, seeming to bring shadows into the
smoky light of dawn. “We both need time alone to hide from the things that
chase us.” He stiffened, his eyes churning with things he refused to voice. A
five o’ clock shadow decorated his strong jaw, his lips parted while his gaze
was pure brimstone.
Swiftly, he cupped my cheek.
Oh, God.
Electricity instantly sparked beneath his fingertips.
Would I always suffer the rhapsody of his touch?
My skin smouldered; pinpricks of light, of fire, of hell,
all burnished beneath his hold. I swayed, pressing my face harder into his
palm.
He sucked in a breath, his fingers digging harder against my
cheekbone.
The chemistry and need to devour each other thickened with
every heartbeat.
One beat.
Two beat.
Three.
We stood there, frozen on the stoop of Hawksridge Hall just
waiting for the other to move. The moment we did, our clothes would
disintegrate and I would willingly let him drag me into a bush and fuck me.
Lust and tension swirled.
I had so many questions and doubts; so many reasons to hate
and fear him. But when he touched me…poof.
I no longer remembered, nor cared.
We swayed closer, drawn against our will to close the aching
distance.
I couldn’t breathe.
Kiss me. Please, kiss me.
The moment stretched until it hummed with overwhelming
possibilities.
Then, it snapped.
Loudly.
Painfully.
Shattering around our feet.
“You’re too fucking dangerous,” Jethro muttered, removing
his touch and stepping away. Dragging his hand through his hair, he commanded,
“Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.” His hands went to his jacket buttons, undoing
them with nimble fingers.
I blinked, struggling to shed myself of heavy need and focus
on the true reason why I stood barely dressed in the freezing morning. “I’m not
escaping. I’ll be back in forty minutes or so.”
He shook his head, slipping out of his tweed and revealing a
black long-sleeved jumper.
My mouth went dry. Even in clothing, I could make out every
ridge of muscle in his stomach, every ripple of energy as he breathed in and
out. He was designed straight from my fantasies, and I hated him for being so
splendid.
My core clenched, sending flutters of wetness between my
legs.
I hadn’t seen him in two days, yet I’d panted after him as
if he’d been missing my entire life.
If he suspected I knew that he was Kite, he hadn’t let on.
After Kes had told me the truth, I’d waited for Jethro to barge into my room
and swear me to secrecy.
But he hadn’t.
He didn’t look at me any differently; he gave no outward
sign that his lies had begun to unravel. As much as he confounded and
frustrated me, I couldn’t help admiring his perfection at hiding.
I wanted to be like him. I wanted to protect my secrets so
damn well that whatever I did next would come as a surprise.
I wanted to rule him.
“I’m coming with you. Don’t leave.” He disappeared into the
house, leaving me abandoned and covered in chills from both the morning air and
his departure.
Jogging on the spot, I deliberated ignoring him and leaving.
Just go.
What was the worst that could happen? He’d have to chase me
again. My tummy coiled at the thought. I liked that idea way too much. I liked
the thought of what would happen after he found me.
The power I’d felt giving him that blowjob. The awe and
attraction that’d glowed in his eyes.
I want that again.
Screw waiting like a good little captive.
Make him hunt.
And then I would make him explode.
I bolted.
Excerpt #2
Just thinking of Jethro sent a spasm of desire through my
core.
Dammit, what’s happening to me?
A daydream of Jethro slamming to his knees before me and
wrenching my legs wide stole my mind. It was so vivid, so real—a trickle of
need ran down my inner thigh. I gasped as I imagined his tongue lapping at my
clit, his long fingers disappearing inside me—the same finger that I’d tattooed
with my name.
Would I come harder knowing he touched me with a finger
branded by me? Or would I hold on as tight as I could and make him work for it?
Oh, God.
I needed to get rid of this satanic desire. I needed to be
free.
My eyes opened, latching onto the detachable showerhead.
I could do it myself…
My heartbeat whizzed with need. I couldn’t fight the
churning demand any longer.
Reaching upward, I unhooked the showerhead and turned the
water temperature down so as not to burn myself.
Feeling awkward and ridiculous and a hundred times guilty
for what I was about to do, I braced my back on the tiled wall and spread my
legs a little.
My teeth clamped on my bottom lip as the water pressure
tickled my clit.
Oh. My. God.
My eyes rolled back as I grew bolder and pressed the stream
of heavenly water harder against my pussy.
Water cascaded down my legs while my torso shivered from
sudden cold. My nipples stiffened as I wickedly angled the jet down and down
until water shot inside me. Every jet and bubble aroused sensitive flesh,
sending my muscles clenching in joy.
I moaned.
Loudly.
My legs trembled as my neck flopped forward and I gave
myself over to the exquisite pleasure conjured by an innocuous showerhead.
Starbursts flashed behind my eyelids; Jethro loomed into my
mind. I pictured him shrugging out of his black shirt, prowling toward me while
unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. I moaned again as my daydream
shed his clothing and stood proud and naked before me. He grabbed his cock,
pumping himself hard and firm, while his eyes feasted on what I was doing. He
didn’t say a word, only watched, then crooked his finger and beckoned me
closer.
My heartbeat exceeded recommended limits as I forced myself
higher and higher, locking my knees against buckling as an orgasm brewed into
being. I rocked the showerhead, biting my lip as the pressure spurted over my
clit and then inside me. The rhythm I set was exactly like fucking and I
daren’t overthink how I looked or how depraved I felt getting off this way.
My daydream forced its way past my misgivings. My forehead
furrowed as I trembled, both welcoming and fighting an orgasm.
Daydream Jethro crept closer, working his cock, a dangerous
glint in his eyes. The moment I was within grabbing distance, he captured my
waist. “I need to be inside you, Nila.” I put words into Jethro’s mouth, but it
was his voice I heard in my heart.
I moaned again, angling the showerhead harder against my
clit.
“How do you want it?” my fantasy whispered in my ear as he
spun me around and pressed me hard against the wall.
I swallowed hard, answering in my mind. “Fast and…”
“Filthy?” Daydream Jethro’s nose nuzzled the back of my ear,
sending shockwaves down my spine. “I can fuck you filthy.”
I couldn’t speak. But I didn’t have to. My fantasy knew
exactly how I needed it. Jethro bit the back of my shoulder, spreading my legs
wider with his.
“Fuck me, Jethro Hawk,” I whispered.
“Oh, I will. Believe me, I will.” Without further warning,
he dug his fingers into my hips and slammed inside me.
My fingers went numb as I slid the showerhead from clit to
entrance. I cried out as water shot inside at the same time as Jethro thrust
into me from behind, sliding deep and fast, stretching me deliciously painfully.
My heart exploded with bliss. An orgasm squeezed every atom,
getting ready to hurl me into the stratosphere.
Jethro thrust again and I rode my new friend the showerhead.
“Oh, God. Yes,” I hissed, rocking harder. “Yes, yes…”
A masculine cough sounded. “You continue to surprise me, Ms.
Weaver; at least this time, I rather enjoy it.”
Everything crashed into awareness. My daydream shattered,
fracturing by my feet like broken glass. I squealed and dropped the showerhead.
It turned into a water snake, spewing water left and right, wriggling like some
terrible demon.
Jethro snickered. “You’re using up the entire Hall’s supply
of hot water. Are you planning on saving some for the rest of the inhabitants
of my home?”
Debt Inheritance (Book One) Indebted Series
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1kMqS41
Amazon UK: http://amzn.uk.to/1kMqS41
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First Debt (Book Two) Indebted Series
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1BjpblH
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Goodreads: http://bit.ly/15ijHdF
Second Debt (Book Three) Indebted Series
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1uK1Sjc
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1z6Ea2g
iBooks: http://bit.ly/1ufkO3z
Nook: http://bit.ly/1xRAbAv
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1xgCSvb
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1BRsIGR
Author Information
Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include
writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with
your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up
ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who
puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.
Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)
Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed
STALK Pepper: Website | Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter |
Blog | Goodreads
Signed Paperback of Second Debt
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