DEBT (16 page)

And, well, that did kind of make sense. In a total douchebag kind of way.

"So I'm... not an itch?" I asked, my throat a little tight at asking something that needy, but needing to understand where he was coming from or I would drive myself insane.

"Honestly, babe, I don't know what the fuck you are. I can't give you promises. I'm not that kind of man. Maybe once will get it out of our systems, maybe not. I have no fucking clue. I just know that this needs to happen."

"Have you considered how this might not be a great..."

"Babe, it could end up like an atomic bomb."

"But you still want..."

"Think I've proved that I want you, Prue."

They weren't flowery words, but they made my belly do a strange little flip-flop.

I swallowed hard, willing myself to choke out the words that felt caught at the back of my throat. I wasn't a good communicator in general, but when it came to things like sex, I was downright atrocious. But I wanted to step out of that comfort zone. I wanted to push my own limits. Those parts of me, they could only come out and exist if I allowed them to.

"I want you too," I admitted, my words barely an airy whisper, but they came out and, judging by the way that his face seemed to almost soften a little, suggested he heard. "I mean I know you know that. I just... I wanted..."

"You don't need to clarify that statement," he said gently. "I know you want me," he said, leaning forward slightly so his face ducked down near my neck, his breath warm on it, "but that doesn't mean I don't like hearing it." I felt myself shiver at the same time my insides flip-flopped. His lips pressed into the sensitive inch of skin directly under my ear. My air sighed out of me as the tip of his tongue traced the spot as well. One of his hands grabbed my hip and pressed me tightly against him, making me acutely aware of his cock against my heat. My legs rose up, going tight against his hips, my arms grabbing his shoulders. "Nuh-uh," he said, pulling back against my hold.

"What?" I asked, opening my heavy eyes to find him looking way too pleased with himself.

"Not here. Not in the middle of the day. Not with Ella eavesdropping."

"Ella is checking the second fridge," I insisted, wrapping my legs a little tighter.

"Babe, I don't have a second fridge."

It was so unexpected, a surprised and loud laugh erupted out of me, making me throw my head back. When I looked back at Byron, he was watching me intensely, lips curved up ever so slightly. "You didn't even flinch at her lie!"

"Ella has worked for me a long time, babe. Nothing she could say could make me flinch."

"She's not really eavesdropping is she?" I asked, dropping my voice low.

"I bet she was until I declared that she was."

"Oh, my God," I groaned, face-planting into his chest in embarrassment. I'd told him I
wanted
him while she was listening on? That was just... humiliating.

"She likes you," he said oddly, his hand landing in the center of my back.

"That just makes it worse," I said, shaking my head.

"She likes you enough to tell you to run screaming."

"Probably smart advice," I mused, knowing I should pull backward, but it felt good to be there like that. It felt right to share the moment with him.

"You should follow it. I'm not a bad man, Prue. But I'm not a good one either."

"You're trying to talk me out of it?" I asked his chest, my brows drawing together.

"Just reminding you of what I told you last night. I am what I am and I'm not gonna change."

"I wasn't asking you to."

"No. But you will."

"That's a little presumptuous," I said, finally pulling back, wanting to have that conversation face-to-face.

"It's honest. I don't do love and flowers, babe. And women, they want love and flowers. They want their happily ever afters and their prince charmings."

"You're being..."

"Forthcoming," he cut me off. "You won't get flowers from me. And I don't do love. But I'll fuck you until you forget those things even exist. I'll make you come until you can't move afterward. Then I'll do it all over again. You want that, you understand that, then we're good. If not, listen to Ella when she comes in here and tells you to steer the fuck clear of me."

Deciding to leave me to think on that, he pulled back from me, grabbed his coffee in one hand and the bowl of peas in the other, handing it to me, then walking out of the room like nothing had happened. Meanwhile I felt a flush covering every inch of skin.

"Prudence," Ella said, walking in a minute later, her tone taking on an edge that I could only describe as motherly even though I had no personal experience with such a thing.

"You dirty liar, you," I said, small-eying her to try to cover my own embarrassment.

"Don't change the subject. Byron? You? What could you be thinking?"

"I know he seems like..."

"You don't need to tell me what he is and isn't, sweetheart," she said, moving over to the sink and leaning against it, crossing her arms over her chest, and staring right at me. "I have worked for that man for ten years and his uncle ten years before that. I saw him when he first moved into this house. I have watched him grow into the man he is. I know him. I know what he is and isn't. And he wasn't trying to be self-deprecating when he tried to warn you off. He was trying to be decent. You're a good girl. You can bristle at that all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that you are. And good girls shouldn't go anywhere near men like him."

"I'm not expecting..."

"Yes, yes you are," she cut me off, shaking her head. "You can look at me and see an old woman..."

"I don't see that," I objected immediately.

"Regardless. I am older. But back in my day, I was a good girl with a body like yours that bad boys wanted to get to know every inch of. I know the appeal of rich and powerful and enigmatic men. I wasted years of my life trying to convince myself that I could fit into their lifestyle. But I couldn't. You can't. And women, we can't give our bodies to a man without losing a small little chip of our hearts as well. I don't care how old school you think that mindset is, it is the truth. Every time we wrap ourselves around a man, every time one sinks inside us, a part of us imagines what it would be like if we could have that forever."

"Ella, I..." I didn't know what to say. Because, quite frankly, I agreed with her. But that didn't change the fact that I didn't want to talk myself out of continuing with Byron.

"I get it," she said, nodding. "Believe me, I do. My mother gave me this same warning that I am giving you."

"And you didn't listen," I said with a smile.

"We never do," she smiled back, turning back to the counter and starting to chop the potatoes for dinner.

We worked in silence for a long couple of minutes before the words blurted out of me before I could stop them. "What was he like when he first moved in?"

Her shoulders straightened and she was silent for a long minute before twisting her head over her shoulder at me, giving me a knowing smile. "Oh, sweetheart," she said with a head shake. "You are so screwed."

With that, she went back to work.

And, I figured, that was Ella's way of telling me to
steer the fuck clear
of Byron.

But, just as she didn't listen to the sage advice when she got it, I didn't listen when I did either.

TWELVE

Prue

I spent the entire rest of that day poised for Byron to finally grab me and start something. But I waited in vein because it never happened. He ate dinner alone in the dining room while answering emails on his phone. I ate dinner in the kitchen with Ella. I helped her clean up because Byron went out, I assumed, to Mandy's. I hung back in the kitchen making brownies even though it wasn't my day to make desserts, but I had literally nothing else to do with my time.

I went up to try to go to bed, but tossed and turned for an hour before grumbling, going back downstairs, and taking a walk around the grounds. And, well, when I got to the hot tub, there was really no going back to the house without getting in. My nerves were frazzled and there was no way I was going to get to sleep without some kind of relaxation. True, I had a tub in my room, but every self-respecting woman knew a hot tub beat a bathtub any day. I did a quick look around to make sure none of the guards were in the back and quickly shimmied out of my jeans and tee and climbed into the water in my bra and panties.

I lost track of time, submerged almost to my chin as I watched the stars break out across the sky.

At some point, my heavy eyes closed and I knew I should have gotten out and made the mad dash back to the house, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Trying to pull an Ophelia, babe?" Byron's smooth voice broke into the quiet of the night, shocking my eyes open and making me lurch up in the water, my heart slamming hard in my chest.

Byron was standing right beside the hot tub, hands tucked into his suit pockets, watching me. I swallowed past the instinctive scream that rose up in my throat and tried to relax back into the tub. "I didn't fall out of a tree," I said, my voice a little edgy with surprise. I watched as his hands slipped out of his pockets and he shrugged out of his jacket, untucked his shirt and started to unfasten buttons. "What are you doing?" I asked, feeling my chest tighten as the shirt split open and showed a big chunk of skin for a moment while he worked his cufflinks off. He tossed them carelessly to the ground then pulled off his shirt.

"I'm coming in," he informed me, somewhat unnecessarily as he kicked out of his shoes and unfastened his belt and pants. Naked save for his boxer briefs, he took the final step toward the hot tub and climbed in. To my surprise, though, he didn't move toward me. He didn't pounce. He settled into the corner directly across from mine, leaning back for a second, and I swear I could see tension slowly leaving his body. His eyes opened and he tilted his head back down to look at me, the intensity there making my sex clench hard. "Come over here," he commanded, his tone soft, but deep.

And, well, there was no staying where I was. I pushed off of my side of the hot tub and moved toward him. As I got within arms-reach, he grabbed my hips and turned me, his arm folding across my belly and pulling my back against his chest. I hadn't excepted sweet from him. I expected the sex that would apparently leave me unable to move afterward. Granted, he'd given me little pieces of sweet before, but when it came down to it, I expected rough, hard, primal. That being said, I wasn't complaining.

"Relax," he commanded, his breath in my ear, and I slowly forced myself to lay back on him, sink into his body, enjoy the safe feeling of a man's strong body holding mine. "Did Ella try to talk you out of it?"

"Of course she did. Just like her mother tried to talk her out of this kind of thing when she was younger."

"Does it bother you, being motherless?"

I took a breath, mulling it over. Because the answer wasn't simple. At some points during my childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood... yes. It had bothered me that I hadn't had a mom around to French braid my hair or show me how to apply makeup or explain tampons to me or tell me their 'first time' story like everyone else I knew. "Sometimes, yeah. Mostly just because of the girl stuff I never got to learn from her. But in most ways, no. My father was always overflowing with love to give. He poured it into me until I overflowed too. I was never wanting for love or attention missing from only having one parent around."

"You've never been in contact with her?"

I shrugged. "She moved on. I used to get birthday cards up until I was eighteen with gift certificates."

"Then she just stopped?"

"Well, I never wrote back. I guess I never forgave her for leaving my dad."

"And you," Byron prompted.

"Not so much me, I guess. He really loved her. He was just... sick, you know?"

"Was it because Mack was a complete fuck up that you learned to always be so self-sacrificing?"

"You say that like it is a bad thing to be."

"It is if it's at the expense of your own happiness, babe."

"I've been happy," I half-lied.

"Babe..." he said and I could actually hear the sarcastic smile in his tone.

"I have. I mean, not blissfully so. Having some pennies to rub together after paying my bills would be nice. But I've gotten by just fine. I don't need fancy stuff to have a good life."

"No," he agreed, his free hand starting to trail up the side of my thigh, chaste by any means, but it was sending off shock waves to my system. "But when was the last time you could buy some fancy chick coffee shit without feeling guilty? Or go on a vacation? Or got your nails done or go out to eat..."

"There are plenty of people without your means who live good lives, Byron."

"Fine, babe. Then when was the last time you could just... take a deep breath?" he asked, his hand rubbing across my belly and making me exhale harshly. And, well, he had a point there. I felt like I always had air held in my lungs, like my chest was constantly tight. "Take a breath, Prue," he suggested, his fingers tracing over my ribs. I exhaled hard and sucked in another deep breath. "For the first time in your shitstorm of a life, things are going good."