A Debt Owed (The Debt Duet 1)

I grab a banana and lean back in my chair while peeling it. His eyes follow the banana as it goes into my mouth, and I take the opportunity to push it down as far as I can manage and then take a bite. I marvel at the slight twinge of pain on his face.

Yes, I went there, and I don’t regret it one bit. For once, he’s on the defense. Good.

“So … what business did you have to attend to that was so urgent?” I say with a mocking voice while still pretending this banana is a dick. “Were you trying to trick someone else into getting a loan from you so you could force them to give you their loved ones too?”

He swallows, visibly agitated at the sight of me savagely eating this banana. Or maybe he’s just angry I was easily able to pinpoint where the problem lies.

“As I said before, it’s none of your business.” He sighs out loud. “But if you must know, I do more than give money to bastards who don’t deserve it. I also give money to people who truly need it. I love charities.”

Oh, I remember him saying that once, but I don’t, for one second, believe he cares.

“Why couldn’t you just have loaned my father the money without demanding such an egregious favor in return?” I ask. “You could’ve made do with the money back plus interest.”

He grabs a peach and leans back just like me. “Because you and your father needed to be taught a lesson.” He brings the peach to his mouth and starts sucking on it. Hard.

And for some reason, it makes my pussy clench.

Fuck.

“I hate you,” I say through gritted teeth.

“No, you don’t. In fact, you’re starting to like me,” he says, licking the peach in an obscene way. Afterward, he takes a bite and swallows. “You only say that you hate me because you’re stuck in this house.” He takes another bite. “But maybe I’ll let you off the property.”

Now that’s music to my ears. He’s certainly got my attention there.

“If?” I add, wondering what the caveat is. Because let’s face it, there must be one.

A devilish smirk appears on his face. “Lift your dress.”

I frown. “What is this … some kind of test?”

He cocks his head. “Perhaps.”

Oh … those games he plays are infuriating. But I’ll play along, for now. If this means I’ll get out of the house, then maybe lifting my dress isn’t so bad. With my index finger and thumb, I raise the fabric until my knees are visible.

“Higher,” he says, and I raise it even more. “Higher …” he says again.

I don’t stop until he tells me to, which he only does once I’ve exposed my panties. “Stop.”

There’s a certain gleam in his eyes.

“Got your fix?” I say.

“Not quite,” he muses, licking his lips as he sits back in his chair. “Play with yourself.”

Chapter 20

Charlotte

My pupils dilate.

Wait. He can’t mean … now? Here?

“What? No,” I say, snorting, but he doesn’t seem the least bit amused.

“Scaredy-cat,” he taunts.

“We’re in the dining room,” I hiss. “Anyone could come in at any moment.”

“They won’t unless I summon them,” he answers.

Well, shit. That wasn’t the only reason not to do this. I mean, I don’t want to be lewd in front of anybody, especially not him. I knew he wasn’t serious when he asked if I was okay. This was on his mind all along.

“Do you want to get out of this house or not?” he asks, blinking a couple of times as if he’s daring me.

Fine. I’ll take him on if that means I’ll get to go outside of that damn fence. Maybe then I can escape his grasp.

My fingers drift up to my panties, and I rub myself through the fabric. His interest is immediately piqued, and he bites his bottom lip with glee. I almost feel empowered by his interest, but I mustn’t ever forget who’s in charge here … who’s forcing me to do this and why.

I push away any thoughts of sexual desire and focus on the task. I tell myself not to feel anything, not even as he starts to rub his own dick through his pants. He leans back, looking me straight in the eyes as if to tell me he knows I saw … and he doesn’t care.

He wants to show me who’s boss, and he wants me to know the price of my freedom. If I want something, I’m going to have to buy my way there with dirty pleasure. It’s wrong and completely evil, yet I can imagine it’s the greatest turn-on to him.

In fact, I can see it with my own damn eyes … the hard-on beneath his tented pants. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me even wetter while I play with myself. I wouldn’t ever admit that to him, of course.