Chapter 3
three
Billie
Knox is staring at my breasts and breathing fast.
Is that a good sign?
This is the moment of truth, I suppose. When I find out if I’m hot or not.
Gosh, I didn’t expect him to be so young.
Not young like me, but young for a rich man. A big-time landowner, at that.
I expected someone older than my father, but Knox Morgan can’t be older than thirty-five.
He’s beat up and rugged, like a man who’s been battle tested.
He’s lived among violence. Witnessed it.
Been part of it, more often than not. His features are harsh and strained, like he’s been living in bitterness a long time.
But that’s not to say there isn’t something…
decidedly attractive about him. He towers over me, for one.
He’s not a bullshit artist, like all the ranch hands, speaking in innuendo and bragging.
Knox is a straight shooter who would, apparently, straight shoot me.
That’s why I figured I better get my shirt off, fast.
It seems to cost him a tremendous effort to stop looking at my breasts, but his irritated dark green eyes drag back upward to my face. “Put your shirt back on,” he rasps.
Shoot.
I’m not hot.
I should have known the ranch hands were full of baloney.
My pride was inherited from my father, though, so I don’t retreat right away. “If you don’t like my tits,” I say, shrugging, “I can just turn around while we do it.”
His eyebrows slowly knit together. “What?”
I look down at my apparently pathetic chest. “I mean, I reckoned my boobs were pretty sweet, but what do I know? I’ve only ever seen mine and my mamas.”
I make eye contact with Knox again.
Why is he looking at me like I’m a lunatic?
“What’s your name, girl?”
“Billie Prosper, sir.”
He winces. “Don’t call me sir.”
“Fine. Mr. Morgan.”
He doesn’t seem to like that, either, but the last resort would be calling him Knox and he’s obviously not going to give me permission to drop formalities. Even though I’m already in his house with my boobs out.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
His pupils expand. “How long have you been eighteen?”
“Nearly a year. My nineteenth birthday is next week.”
For some reason, that seems to earn him a measure of relief. “The fact that you’re young doesn’t excuse your stupidity, you know.”
My cheeks flame hot. “Excuse me?”
He moves closer to me, bringing us toe to toe, his big hands settling on my waist and lifting me onto the edge of his desk.
I’m surprised to feel a tingle in my tummy over the raw skin of his palms. His casual strength.
The fact that he smells like fresh lake water and fire smoke on the wind.
“Coming into a stranger’s house and flashing your tits.
Offering him up sex on a platter. And if you’re telling me the truth, nobody knows you’re here.
” Fast as a rattlesnake strike, his hand closes around my throat.
“I could do whatever I want to you right now, whether I accept your proposition or not.”
I have my switchblade out before he knows I’ve moved, the sharp edge pressed low to his gut where I could have his spleen carved out in three seconds flat. “I’d rather settle on terms before you do whatever you want to me.”
His eyelids weigh down, a muscle snapping in his cheek.
Against my inner thigh, something shifts and hardens. Is he getting an erection?
Lust? I-is this what lust looks like?
“Anything I want?” he asks, echoing my words.
“That’s the offer,” I whisper back. “You can do anything you want to me, if you cancel out the debt my parents owe on the ranch.”
“Who put you up to this?”
“Me.” I wet my lips, surprised when I find them trembling.
Not with fear. With something else. The warmth of his body, the overwhelming heat, power and size of it, are having a strange effect on me.
I’m starting to get flushed, a weight sinking low and fast in my tummy.
“I heard my parents talking about declaring bankruptcy. I can’t let them do that.
It would be devastating to my family. Not only to lose the respect of our town but lose the ranch where I’m supposed to live all my life… I can’t allow that.”
If I was expecting sympathy in the wake of my speech, I’d be sorely disappointed. “And you think a roll in the hay with you is worth forgiving thirty thousand in debt?”
It takes all my willpower not to blanch. “That’s how much they owe?”
“Give or take a thousand.” He rubs his thumb up and down in the notch of my throat, leaning back to peruse my body. “You’d have to be a downright life-changing fuck to pay that kind of debt.”
My blood simmers at the challenge. “Did I mention I’m a virgin?”
His thumb halts mid-stroke, something feral shifting in his gaze. That big chest shudders up and down. “A virgin sacrifice, are you?”
I nod choppily, unnerved by the tickle in my belly. Like a feather sweep.
The way my underwear seems to be…getting damp? Why? What does that mean?
“I’ll need to sample some of the goods first,” he says, sounding winded, his gaze zeroed in on my mouth. “Before I make a final decision.”
Holy cow. He’s considering it. “W-what does that mean?”
“It means I’m fucking crazy,” he mutters, crowding in closer between my thighs, my pulse spilling sideways when the proof of his hunger prods the seam of my jeans. It’s so thick. Steely. So much more abundant than I expected. “Let’s see if you can kiss.”
“I’ve never done that, either,” I whisper.
“Fuck,” he grits out, closing his eyes. But just as quickly, he gathers himself, those features hardening. “Do your best to keep up.”
I nod, my heart knocking against my ribcage. “Do you want me to put my shirt on, so you don’t have to look at my pathetic breasts?”
Double take. “What the hell are you talking about? Your tits are fucking perfect.”
I gasp with relief, a smile making my lips jump. I’m so thrilled with his compliment that I set my switchblade down on the desk. “Really?”
His expression is inscrutable. “Stop talking.”
“Okay.”
I’m yanked roughly by my knees to the very edge of the desk…and I can’t help it, I look down at the bulging ridge in his jeans, wondering how in tarnation his zipper is remaining closed under that kind of assault. He reminds me of the bull on our ranch. Enormous, surly. Packing.
His face dips to the curve of my neck and he inhales deeply, like he’s memorizing my scent. “Having second thoughts, little girl? It’s not a good size for beginners.”
What is this melting sensation in my middle? “I’ll do what I have to do.” I say, haltingly, my head tilting right so his mouth can skate up and down my neck.
Wow. Wow, that feels very nice.
Too nice?
I don’t have a chance to wonder for long, because his mouth slides over mine with a grunt of possession, pulling on me hard. And deep. His chest brushes my stiff nipples ever so slightly, and I whimper, my parted lips allowing his tongue to sweep in and claim me.
Claim me.
That’s what Knox does.
There’s no teaching period.
He starts me on expert level, his body pushing in tight to mine, his mouth above me, his hand fisting my hair to tilt me at the right angle while he punishes and fucks my mouth.
There’s no catching my breath and there’s no mercy.
He winds his tongue deep in my mouth, groaning when I mimic him, my hands having no choice but to hold on to the front of his shirt for dear life.
And oh goodness, moisture seems to trickle and gush into my panties and I…
it occurs to me why. To slicken his path. The path of his shaft.
The human body is amazing.
My human body feels amazing the more he feasts on my mouth from above, like a starving man trying eat his way down a stack of fresh pancakes, tearing into me with desperate sounds in his throat, and the craziest thing is, I can sense how lonely he’s been.
I can feel the pain and horror he’s been carrying. It’s all part of the revealing kiss.
It rocks me back on my proverbial heels.
All the hurt he gives me. All the need.
I respond with lust, yes, but also my heart, pulling him closer and stroking his sideburns, ticking my thighs open another couple of inches, so we can meld together more securely and he comes like a dying man, raking his gasping mouth up the side of my neck, rolling his face there, his hands shaking where they drag up and down my bare back.
All at once, he stops.
Must realize he’s let himself enjoy me too much.
At least, that’s what it feels like.
He’s mad at himself for letting go. For needing.
“Get out,” he says, hoarsely, against my ear.
I’m still dizzy from his kiss. His touch, such a mixture of tenderness and violence. Who knew I could gravitate to a stranger’s warmth? Suddenly I swear I could die without it.
“Huh?” I manage.
Knox wrenches himself away from me, turning away and stomping to the other side of the study. “I didn’t stutter, little girl. Get the hell out of here!”
“Was I…” My eyes smart with tears. “Did I do it wrong? Are we…do we have a deal?”
“No.” He turns away, but not before I see the surge of regret. “Out!”
Knowing when I’ve pushed my luck, I snatch up my shirt and run, the wind drying the tears on my face the whole way down the mountain. Not only have I failed to save the ranch for my parents, but I think I left a part of myself on the desk in that study.
A part of me I’ll never get back.
Not my virginity.
No, it was…true abandon. Unfiltered vulnerability.
The kind you only give to a man once.
I guess Knox Morgan was my once.