Page 73 of Whispers

Weston cringed as Riley, sweating like a pig, fell upon her, holding her close, crushing those magnificent breasts. He whispered something into her ear then lifted his head for a second, and his eyes, dark in the night, seemed to stare straight at Weston. That was impossible, of course, he couldn’t be seen in the shadows of the fir trees, and yet Hunter seemed to have Weston in his sights.

Weston’s breath stilled in his lungs. Sweat trickled down his neck. He slid his hand out of his pants.

Miranda said something and Hunter turned his attention back to the long-legged, beautiful woman lying beneath him. Desire thudded through Weston’s brain as he slowly picked his way back up the path. He stumbled once, his shoe crashing into a tangle of roots, his face slapped by fine-needled branches, but eventually he found his way to the dock.

His heart nearly stopped when he spied Tessa on the edge of the pier, her feet dragging through the water less than two hundred yards from where her sister was lying naked on the beach.

She turned as he approached and he noticed the tracks of tears drizzling from her eyes. “Enjoy the show?” she asked, her voice a harsh whisper that probably echoed over the lake.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“What is it with you?” she demanded. “Why do you keep seeing me when you really want her?”

“Who?”

She shoved her hair away from her face. “Don’t be stupid. I have eyes, you know. I can tell that you want Miranda. I only wished I understood your fascination with her.”

He didn’t argue, and she didn’t break down.

“She’s in love with Hunter, you know.” Struggling to her feet, Tessa dusted her hands and sniffed back any trace of tears. She had pride, if nothing else. “I don’t know why, but Miranda thinks the earth, moon, and stars revolve around him.” She wiped the back of her hand under her nose and squared her small shoulders. When Weston tried to touch her, she backed away quickly, nearly slipping off the pier. “Who would have thought? The ice princess—hot for the caretaker’s son.” Her smile was cold and direct as she stared into Weston’s eyes. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Tessa,” he said, reaching for her wrist.

She yanked her hand away. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped, drawing back and slapping him. Smack. The sound echoed over the water. “I won’t be used like a two-dollar whore. Go back to Crystal if all you want is a quick fuck.”

Weston’s temper flared. “Hey—wait a minute,” he ordered, grabbing her around her small waist. What was going on here? Tessa, who had always been so willing to please, was suddenly turning on him, showing him more fire than he’d seen in weeks. She was fighting him as he dragged her along the shore of the lake, down a path far from Miranda, away from the lodge.

“Let me go, you bastard!” Her heels dug into the dirt and caught on exposed roots. With a sickening rip, her blouse caught on a branch and tore.

“Why?”

“Because it’s over!” She struggled and he held tighter, feeling a heat in his groin that was sparked by the fight.

“It’s over when I say so.”

“Leave me alone, Weston, or I swear—”

He clamped a hand over her mouth and felt her teeth sink into his palm. But he didn’t so much as flinch. Let her struggle all she wanted. Right now she was his. Anger fueled his passion, fury caused his dick to rise and heat. She was scared now, he could feel the change in her body, the tension. The smell of fear reached his nostrils and he thought he could easily come in his jeans. “Don’t you know that no one messes with me, Tessa? Haven’t you figured that one out yet?”

Her body coiled and she struck out, twisting so that her knee connected with his groin. Pain exploded in his crotch. His breath expelled in a rush.

“You bitch,” he wheezed, shaking her. “You goddamned bitch! Now you’re going to pay!” Doubled over, he dragged her over stones, past berry vines that clung and clawed, over fallen logs to a clearing where his car was parked. He was sweating and breathing hard, but they were far enough away from Dutch’s house that even if she was stupid enough to scream, no one would hear her. She wouldn’t win. No matter what.

With one hand he reached into his pocket and found Jack Songbird’s knife. With a click it was open, and he held it in front of her eyes. “Don’t do something stupid and you won’t get hurt.”

He let go and she spit on him as she tried to stumble away. “You’re asking for trouble,” she hissed.

“Me? Looks like you’re the one who needs help.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Weston,” she said with enough bravado to almost convince him. But her voice shook a bit and she couldn’t take her eyes off his newfound weapon. “In fact I—I think you’re pathetic!” She was sweating, and her perfume teased his nostrils. She turned as if to walk away, and he lunged. Her scream, before he held the knife to her throat, was a tiny squeak.

“Let me go, you cocksucker.”

“No way, Tessa. We had a date, remember?” Holding her firmly against him with both arms, he felt her spine against his chest, her round butt wriggling against his fly as she struggled. Her breasts heaved against his arm, and her breath was hot as dragon’s fire.

“Let me go, damn it.”

He smelled her fear and it turned him on. She was a hellcat. He licked the skin at her hairline and she flung her head back, hoping to wound him. Silly bitch. “Careful, darling.” He nipped at her salty skin.