As a special teaser I’ve decided to give an eleven page snippet of First Debt (Indebted #2) I don’t normally do them so big, but figured it’s time you see what I’m building you towards. 🙂

Read only if you’ve read Debt Inheritance and yes it does reveal a few things, so if you want no spoilers do NOT read.

Also, seeing as I released the cover for Forbidden Flaws early, I’ll release the cover for First Debt. For those who have read, you’ll have seen it in the back of Debt Inheritance so it’s not new to you <3

And now for the teaser…

Hope you enjoy!

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First Debt

Goodreads: ADD HERE

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Subject to copyright, UNEDITED, subject to change.

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The next morning I was showered, dressed in a black maxi dress with a sequined orchid on the chest, and purple ballet slippers, before the sun was properly awake.

I sat prim and ready on the end of my neatly made bed.

Waiting.

He didn’t disappoint.

At precisely seven a.m., my door swung open revealing my nemesis dressed in black jeans and grey t-shirt. Seriously, didn’t he own any other colours?

He stopped short, frowning at my demure obedience.

I waved. “Morning, master, is it time for my walk? I’ve been waiting here like the good girl, anticipating my daily exercise.”

I knew I played with fire—or ice as the case might be—but I really didn’t give a damn.

Last night had broken something inside me and I’d yet to find whatever it was to try and fix it.

Standing, I crossed to him.

His nostrils flared, golden eyes delving deep into mine. “I thought you’d be hiding under your bed after your debacle yesterday.”

I shrugged. “Everyone has a limit and I crossed mine in your office.” I smiled softly, thinking of my replies to Kite and my father.  I was prepared to unplug Jethro, just like I’d unplugged my phone. I hadn’t touched it since—it was still in pieces in the drawer. For now, I didn’t care about the outside world, or even Kite’s reply.

I didn’t care.

It was liberating.

My fingertips landed on his chest, dipping coyly to his belt. His eyes flared but he held his ground. “Then I crossed another limit and I feel surprisingly…calm.”

A limit where I’d stopped fretting of over the future. A limit where I was just as volatile and as unhinged as they were.

“I can’t keep up with you.” His voice was dark with a trace of anger. He cocked his head, his salt-and-pepper hair catching the morning sun glinting through the window. “You’ve surprised me again, Ms. Weaver, and once again I don’t like it.” He leaned forward, his lips so close to mine. “I’m beginning to wonder if everything I know about you is a lie.”

I stood my ground. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

He chuckled. “We Hawks have our ways. I know more than you think.”

His cryptic comment didn’t derail me. I stared harder, trying to understand just how much he knew. But it was pointless—like staring into a black lake with no reflection other than myself.

“Come. It’s time for Gemstone and breakfast.” He smiled coldly. “I have no doubt you’ll be starving after your…what was that last night? Would you prefer the word breakdown or hysterics?”

I straightened my shoulders. “Neither.”

“You have to pick one.”

“No, I don’t. If you want me to define it, I’ll call it my way of saying goodbye.”

He jerked. “Goodbye?” His knuckles went white as his hands clenched into fists. “To who?”

My eyes tightened, trying to read him. He played the perfect part. “To my past, to who I used to be, to a friend called Kite.”

The reaction was subtle.

The small intake of breath. The slight whitening of his face. The indiscernible flinch of his muscles.

Then it was gone, hidden beneath the snowy exterior he held so well. “Ah yes, the James Bond idiot, 007.” Moving quickly, he grabbed my elbow, dragging me toward the door. “Well, I’m glad you said your goodbyes. Nothing worse than dying with unfinished business.” His smile sent gale-force winds howling through my suddenly torn open chest.

I slammed on my breaks. “You can’t help yourself can you?”

He paused, forehead furrowed.

“You just have to be so damn cruel.”

He sighed dramatically, backing me away from the door and toward the centre of the room again. “I’m not cruel.”

I laughed. “Says the heartless human who probably doesn’t have a reflection when he stares in the mirror.”

He took another threatening step. I took one, too. Backing away from him—waltzing slowly around the room—hunter and prey.

“You’re saying I’m soulless?”

I nodded. “Completely soulless.”

He smirked. “Okay, try me. Ask me to do something. Make me prove to you that I have a soul.”

I frowned. “Like what?”

He took another step, pressing me closer to the bed. The anger throbbing around him switched to sexual interest. My breathing picked up as his golden eyes darkened. “You’re the one who needs proof, Ms. Weaver. You make the choice.”

What could I make him do?

What would prove he had a heart and my resolution to seduce him would actually work?

I know.

I stopped retreating, locking my knees to stop myself from losing confidence and running. “I have something. A test. It will prove you’re not the monster I think you are.”

He came closer, a slow smile spreading his lips. “Go on.”

I balled my hands and took a deep breath. The precipice opened wide. I took a leap of faith and leapt. “Kiss me.”

The oxygen in the room disappeared. My heart erupted into flurries.

Jethro froze. “Excuse me?”

Standing tall, I said, “You’ve come so close to kissing me. By the stables, in the forest, just now by the door. Each time you get close you pull away. I want to know why.”

Jethro’s hands clenched by his sides. “And you think a stupid kiss will prove what?”

I narrowed my eyes. “That you’re not as cold as you think you are. That you do care—care enough to be affected by kissing your arch enemy.”

Jethro laughed, but it was laced with uncertainty and…was that fear?

“I’m not kissing you to prove such a ridiculous point.”

I splayed my hands, mocking him subtlety. “You said you’d do anything I asked.”

He chuckled softly. “I said something worthwhile.”

“Kissing me isn’t worthwhile?”

His eyes latched onto mine. A second ticked past. Another.

Then he lost his icy shell. “What the fuck do you want from me, Nila?”

My heart stopped.

Nila.

He’d called me Nila.

His eyes widened, noticing his slip, then furious temper etched his face. He stormed forward, threading his fingers around my throat. The smooth edges of his control were now jagged with temper.

I backed up until the bed stopped my escape, Jethro followed, his fingers tightening around my neck. “Tell me, goddammit. What the hell are you trying to do?”

My heart hurt at the unreadable expression in his gaze. He hid himself so well. The brief flashes of truth I’d gleaned didn’t add up. I was fishing for something that didn’t exist.

My eyes were heavy with tears. I shook my head. “I just want….”

There was no point to this argument. None.

“I need….”

To know you are capable of caring, just a little.

To want me, just a little.

To find something inside me that prevents you from killing me.

It was like wishing for a Pegasus to fly in and whisk me away. I wouldn’t get anything I wished for. Whatever I felt for Jethro was misplaced, ill-advised, and false. He didn’t have a caring bone in his body. I’d seen him hunt me. I’d seen his cold enjoyment of talking about taking my life.

He breathed hard, his scent of woods and leather surrounding me.

My hands flew up to hold his, trying to pry his fingers away. “Just…forget it. Let me go. Forget I was stupid enough to say anything.”

Jethro dropped his hands, pacing away. “Forget it? You’re the one bringing it up. You’re the one ruining the agreement between us.”

“What agreement?”

“The debts, Ms. Weaver! That’s all we’re meant to do. I don’t care about your wellbeing or emotional satisfaction. You had to ruin a straight forward obligation by trying to fucking kiss me in that coffee shop!”

My head shot up. Jethro was close to losing it. His pure way of speaking became littered with curses—the only sign of his temper winning over his artic control.

“I tried to kiss you that night because for the first time in my life my father gave me freedom. Can I help it I found you attractive?”

The atmosphere changed again, shedding its coldness for heat and heaviness.

“You found me attractive?”

God, he was so obtuse.

I couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling from my mouth. “Do you think I would’ve writhed on someone else’s fingers the way I did yours? I’m sexually starving but I’m not so desperate to allow someone to touch me that way who I don’t want!”

I clamped a hand over my mouth. Shit. I hadn’t meant to say I wanted him. That was a lie I was hiding even from myself. Sex with Jethro was supposed to be a weapon. Not something I wished he’d give me.

Jethro prowled toward me, pinning me against the four poster. His body heat sparked so hot and dangerously close to mine. His hands opened and closed at his side. So close. So temptingly close.

“This is getting interesting, Ms. Weaver. You mean to tell me you want my cock? You want me to…fuck you?”

My stomach twisted. Wetness built in my core as the argument switched from exposing his weakness to exposing mine.

I bit my lip, refusing to answer.

He smirked, his eyes dropping to my mouth. His lips parted as his breathing turned heavy and ragged. “Tell me what you want from me. You have my undivided attention.”

All the frustration from dealing with Kite came back. The need. The sexual burn. The endless torture of living with a man who meant to kill me. A man my body wanted more than anything.

I embraced the heat of anger, glaring into Jethro’s golden eyes.

Don’t do this.

You’ll get hurt. Terribly hurt.

I couldn’t stop myself.

“I told you what I want. Kiss me.” My arms swooped up, looping around his neck.

He reared back, breaking my hold. His chest rose and fell as he breathed hard. His eyes were almost black with need. Need I was sure reflected in mine. “Kiss you?” He laughed. “Why would I kiss you? A kiss is emotion. A kiss is a weakness.” Placing his hands on either side of me holding onto the four poster, he murmured, “A kiss is not something you’ll get from me, Ms. Weaver.”

I pressed forward breaking his hold and stalking him for a change. “A kiss is nothing. What are you so afraid of?”

What am I doing?

What were we doing?

Rules were being broken in this very moment.

Consequences would come. Pain would be endured. But in that moment, I didn’t care.

All I cared about was Jethro’s lips on mine.

He dogged my grasp, then forced himself to stand tall and unmovable. I pressed myself against him, looking up into his golden eyes. His lips were so close. My heart fluttered like a dying hummingbird, my stomach twisted. So…close.

I couldn’t speak.

Jethro didn’t move back, he stood there, his hips flush against mine, his hands came up on their own accord, grabbing my waist, holding me in place.

We didn’t speak, only breathed—hard and fast, knowing how dangerous this whole fight was.

“Stop. Stop playing me. What did you hope to achieve? That I’d kiss you? Fuck you? Came to care for you? That I’d fall in love with you.” His voice dropped to whisper. “That I wouldn’t kill you?” He shook his head. “You’re still as clueless and naïve as the day I stole you.”

“Prove it.”

His nostrils flared. “I will not.”

Cocking my chin, I anchored myself in as much courage as possible. A horrible wave of vertigo threatened to steal my posture. I was so close to getting what I wanted there was no way I would let my idiotic brain topple me over.

“Prove it, Jethro. Prove how cold you are by giving me something I desperately need.”

I need to see there is hope. Just a small shred of hope.

“What makes you think I can be manipulated? I don’t care about your needs or desires.”

“Liar,” I whispered. “You do care. Otherwise you wouldn’t still be here. You wouldn’t be fighting this.” I rested my hands on his chest, digging my fingernails into his t-shirt. “You would’ve struck me and left if you were anything like you portray.”

I stood on my tiptoes, reaching for his mouth. “I told you, you’re a hypocrite,” I breathed.

He paused, calculation dark in his eyes. “One kiss?”

I nodded. “One kiss.”

Jethro’s control broke. “Just one fucking kiss? Don’t you know what you’re asking from me? I don’t want to fucking kiss you!”

My heart broke. Was I so repulsive he didn’t want his lips anywhere on mine?

I withered in his gaze, falling back to my position of Weaver Whore. But then, I stopped. This was the only time I might get him this close. It might be my only hope. Glaring into his eyes, I snarled,” Kiss me. Give me one fracture of human company and I’ll never say another word to you again. I’ll be whatever you want. Just kiss me!”

His eyes went wide. “You’re an idiot.”

“So you keep telling me.”

“You’re wasting your time.”

“So you keep telling me.”

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

I lashed out. My arm came up. I opened my palm. And I slapped the self-righteous egotistical arsehole on the cheek.

The moment went from lust-heavy to stagnant with violence. We stared, breathing hard.

He growled, “You’re a fucking nightmare.”

“Kiss me.”

“You’re ruining my life.”

“Kiss me.”

“You’re—”

“Kiss me, Jethro. Kiss me. Just fucking kiss me and give me—”

His body crashed against mine. His hands flew up from my waist, grabbing my cheeks and holding me firm. His lips, oh his lips, they bruised mine as his head titled and with pure anger he gave me what I’d wanted for days.

My lungs were empty, he’d stolen all my air, but I no longer survived on oxygen. I survived on his lips, his taste, his unbridled energy pouring down my throat.

His tongue tore past my lips, taking me savage and hungry. There was nothing sweet or gentle. This was a punishment. This kiss was a reminder that I hadn’t won. He wasn’t kissing me. He was fighting me in every underhanded way.

His hands dropped from my cheeks, cupping my breasts. The violence in his touch bruised instantly. I arched my back, opening my mouth wider to scream, but he swallowed my cries, kissing me deeper, harder, stealing every inch of sanity I had left.

I thought a kiss would put me on even ground—show him that he did care. That he was human—just like me. I hadn’t gambled on being detonated into a billion tiny pieces that had no notion of who I’d been before he’d stolen my soul.

He backed me up, faster and faster to the bed. His breath saturated my lungs. His touch skated from my cheeks, to my breasts, to my waist, to my arse. Jerking me hard against the huge length of arousal in his jeans.

The bed stopped our motion, tumbling us onto the sheets, but nothing, absolutely nothing, could unweld our lips.

We were joined, kissing, frantic, desperate.

He groaned as I tugged at his t-shirt, needing it off—needing to feel his skin against mine, but there was no way I wanted to stop kissing him.

He was blood and fire and heat.

So different to the glacier he pretended to be.

 <3 <3 <3 <3

The rest of what happens will be released in First Debt (Indebted #2) Release date to be advised very soon.