Page 49 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"No offense, but I'm not exactly sure what that means," I said, hoping my caution wasn't too obvious.

"It means you ain't gonna have me breathin' down your neck," he explained and then thought about something. "The other two have been good too...just less irritatin'."

"I've told you, it's a skill."

"It's who you are."

"It can be both."

He sighed. “The point is, especially after today, you proved you can be trusted."

I felt a ripple of annoyance pass through me, and I frowned at him. “Just because I..." I dropped my voice low even though the doors were thick, "helped you with your not-so-little problem earlier doesn't mean I was trying to bribe my way into a little more freedom."

Ambrose rolled his eyes. “And I ain't sayin' that's what you were doin'. And I'm definitely not sayin' that's why I'm doin' it because I'm not. That...was something else. Everything else besidesthat?—"

"That," I repeated. "It was sex. Sex you enjoyed and want more of, I'll wager."

"Samuel—"

"I'm certainly open to it. Not often I get to enjoy some pleasure with a good-looking man. And as far as partners go...you're definitely fun."

He stared at me for a moment, and I was almost sure I’d broken something in his mind. At least the rising color in his cheeks told me that much. And I’d promised myself I was going to behave.

Once again, he cleared his throat, the sound rough and guttural. "Mypointis that outside of that, you did...well. You're smart enough. You could've found a chance to hurt or kill me to get away. And you've been gettin' along on your own well enough you could figure out a way to stay alive. Or hell, you could probably talk your way outta trouble if you made it to Rapture and moved on before I had a chance to get back."

It was a severe overestimation of my abilities as far as I was concerned, but it was kind, so I’d take it. While I was certainly smart and skilled enough not to die immediately if I got away,I wouldn't bet on my survival skills out here in the middle of nowhere, not when I wasn't the most knowledgeable about surviving in a desert. As far as talking my way out of trouble? Well, maybe, but he was forgetting that the sheriff was even more stiff-necked than him and wouldn't believe a word that came out of my mouth. The trick would be to get the assistance I needed to leave without the sheriff knowing and making sure no one remembered me, two feats that were difficult at the best of times, let alone when I was desperate to get away as quickly as possible because I feared retribution from Ambrose and his father.

A nice thought, though.

"Well, I appreciate that...I think," I added after a moment's thought. "Not too sure I should be happy you decided that I'm not, in fact, a heartless opportunist who would break your knees or bash you over the head just for a taste of freedom."

"Weren't you the one who said you've done a bunch of things you aren't proud of to survive?"

"Well, yes. But I never hurt anyone, well, no one who didn't deserve it."

"And how am I supposed to know if I do or don't deserve it?"

"You don't. You haven't wronged me. Insulted me, sure, but I'm not so proud that being insulted counts as a killing offense. I might rob you if I needed to survive, but the only time I'm going to hurt or kill someone seriously is if they're a danger to me...to my life."

"Or your own definition of justice."

An icy trail traced through my gut, the sensation unpleasant but mostly welcome as I thought of the two murders I'd committed that had started my life on its current path. Sometimes, it was hard to remember where I'd ended up and feel happy, but not once had I regretted killing the men responsible for my parent's deaths. It might have ruined anychance of a normal life for me and kept me constantly on the move, forever barred from my home, but in no way would those two be able to live their lives safe from their crimes. And their families, who had fought to hide them from real justice, would forever mourn their sons and know they had failed to protect them.

I nudged the feeling out of my head and smirked at him. “So what you're saying is, I've been a very good little boy, and I deserve to have a treat...and good in no way, shape, or form related to the use of my mouth."

"Yes," he said, sounding so exasperated with me it was a wonder he hadn't slumped over from exhaustion.

"Well, I guess that's an improvement...now, when do I get better sleeping quarters?"

He sighed. “Let's see how the three of you do with a little slack added to your chains before we get too ahead of ourselves."

"Fine, fine, I suppose it's not wise to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"You would be right."

I grinned. "So, you get a whole new set of problems, but you're ridding yourself of dealing with me constantly. Sounds like we both came out winners, although I don't get more trouble so maybe I win most."

"I reckon you do," he said, glancing toward the door and standing upright. I expected him to leave, only to freeze when he leaned in close. Not quite kissing distance, but all either of us would have had to do was lean an extra couple of inches and we would’ve been doing just that. His eyes burrowed into mine as one of his hands came down to grip my thigh, fingers digging in with a strength that, while not painful, did a fine job of holding my attention. His voice was a low rumble. “And maybe we will see what other things you can do with that big mouth of yours...and other parts too if you're feelin' bold."

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