Page 27 of Brutal Heir

“Where are you?” This time it isn’t that demanding sour tone he’s always used. The velvet in his voice has my toes curling again.

I swallow hard as another water truck passes. “I’m on the side of the road.” I glance at the sign, showing Laredo in one direction and Catarina in the other. “Actually, right where I was last time you called.”

“I saw you didn’t go home.”

I probably should have. This changed everything about what I planned to do. The sun’s going down already, and I’m actually going to show up at a hotel with a man’s hands imprinted on the white tank top I’m wearing. I’ll have to walk in with my arms folded over my chest for them not to see he was playing with my boobs.

“No, I was trying to get to Laredo.”

He pauses. He’s quiet long enough that the silence creeps up on me. Why isn’t he saying anything?

“Come back.”

Out of all the things he could have said, I never would have expected that.

My heart’s in my throat. Another round? The throbbing between my legs urges me to say yes. My nipples tighten, reminding me of how it felt to have him touch me.

“Um…”

There’s no denying he’s making a demand, not asking me what I want to do. I don’t know if he’s even interested in what I want, what I need. It’s an order. Nothing less.

Yet, I’ve never wanted something so badly.

“It’s late.”

It’s my excuse to buy myself some time. To figure out if it’s what I’ll do. This afternoon, it was a moment of passion when I was vulnerable. Maybe it’s what I wanted to hear. Maybe at some point I could come to regret it. But, if I go now, it’s my own decision, no matter what his tone is.

“And?”

“I’d never make it to town in time to grab a hotel. It would be the middle of the night when I got there.”

“Who says you’d be leaving before the sun came up?”

Dear Lord.

“Maybe I can talk you into letting me record you again.”

Oh hell. My breath rushes out. Images assault me out of nowhere. His strong arm around me, fingers spreading over my breasts. My shorts at my knees and his fingers inside my panties. I can still hear the sound of his fingers moving through my wetness, my breathing shallow as I tried to keep it together while he fondled my clit.

“You’re thinking about it,” he says, knowingly.

“I—” The blush of embarrassment rushes through me. I never thought having a man’s hand under my clothes would be such a turn-on. “You’re just trying to get some amateur porn.” I chuckle. “So you can get off on the image of me.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been getting off on the image of you a for a while.”

“Oh my God,” I mumble. I can’t even imagine that happening. I’m caught somewhere between embarrassed, shocked, and a little turned on at the thought of being his fantasy.

“Now, I want the real thing.”

The memory of my pussy trying to tighten around him sends a shudder through my body. “Okay.” It’s little more than a whisper, but his breath rushes out.

“You know how to get to the Torres house?”

I have a mental image of the map on the wall. The Torres house is about half a mile from the main house. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll send you the combination to the lock. That way you don’t have to pass a guard shack.”

That’s thoughtful, considering my position and the rumors that would start. It also keeps me from going across the road in front of the main house, which may come with its own set of problems.

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