He dared to touch what’s…
Don’t say ‘mine.’ Don’t you dare.
Billie is standing now, staring down at the body with a hand slapped over her mouth. Moisture brims in her eyes, but she drops her hand away and takes deep gulps of air, visibly trying to gather her courage. It occurs to me that she must be as terrified of me as she is of the ranch hand. After all, I just executed him in cold blood. I’ve revealed myself as a murderer. She’s probably going to turn tail and run screaming back to the ranch any second.
But then the strangest thing happens.
Something I don’t expect and ruins me on the spot.
She gulps a sob and runstome, throwing herself against my body, her arms looping tight around my neck. I don’t recognize the rush of chemicals inside of me. They nearly knock me off my feet. I’ve never been hugged before in my life. Not like this. In gratitude. In the pursuit of comfort. I’m finding it very hard to breathe around the crush of my windpipe.
My arms lift and circle Billie, gathering her close, a cascade of gratification spilling down from the top of my head to the solesof my feet. Needing more, even more, I lift her off the ground and her legs perch on my hips, her face burrowing into my neck.
Oh God. It’s the most perfect feeling. Holding and comforting this girl.
“I didn’t…I didn’t think…” Billie sniffles. “He’s worked for us foryears.”
Maybe Iwillgive in to the impulse to carve the fucker up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
“You’ll never know every thought in a man’s head,” I say into her tumble of hair. “Remember that.”
“Especially not yours,” she whispers.
“Especially not mine.” I swallow the object in my throat, for some stupid reason feeling the need to add, gruffly, “But as mean as I am, I’d never cause you harm.”
She nods without hesitation. As if she already knew that.
How?
I don’t fucking know. But I need to experience more of her. I need more of this, despite the voice in the back of my head warning me to break my Billie habit before it’s too late. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She lifts her head, studying me, her teary eyes causing me to bleed on the inside. “How did you know where to find me? How did you get here in time?”
“I was watching you from my window.”
“Oh.” She brings her gentle fingertips to the bristle of my beard and traces a path up my cheekbone. “Do you do that often?”
It’s the wrong time for my dick to stiffen into iron. There’s no stopping it, though. “Maybe,” I rasp. “I watch everything in my valley.”
She ducks her head, chewing her lip in clear disappointment.
I can’t have it.
“I have changed my mind about your proposition.”
Her chin shoots up, her searching gaze finding mine. “Y-you have?”
“Hmm.”
A corner of her lips ticks up. “I had a feeling you’d come around. There aren’t a lot of options ’round these parts.”
Apparently, Billie has no idea that she’s sex on legs. A male fantasy in the flesh. It’s almost impossible to comprehend that she isn’t vain over her beauty. In fact, she’s the opposite. She’s utterly clueless about it. If I had my pick of every woman in any hemisphere, I am positive it would be this one, and that is so unnerving, I rush to distract myself.
“I have some amendments to your original deal.”
She plays with the button of my shirt. “What are they?”
My balls throb being this close to her mouth, her little pussy sitting happily on my bulge, warm and tender. Untouched. “It’s a big debt you’re asking me to forgive, little girl.” I rove my open mouth along her jawline. “One time isn’t enough to cover what’s due.” That’s a bald-faced lie. One time with her would be worth a thousand times what her parents owe me. “I want a week of fucking you, Billie. When I want it. How I want it. Whenever I want it.”
