by Lily Harlem
“Yes…yes…” she cried.
He let out a long, low moan that tangled with hers as they orgasmed together. She was aware of him filling her with his seed. She clenched around him and dragged her nails over his shoulders, digging into his skin.
He yelled and thrust again, driving them up the bed until her head hit the board.
She hardly noticed, hostage as she was to the sensations blasting through her body. Every nerve was on fire, every muscle contracting. Her mind was lost to him. She gasped, moaned, clutched his face, drawing herself up to kiss him.
He ravaged her mouth the way he was ravaging her body, then dropped flat and rested heavily over her.
He stilled his hips, his cock buried deep.
She nipped at his bottom lip. Gripped his ears.
He reached for her wrists, momentarily dropping all of his weight onto her, then lifted up, pressing her arms to the bed either side of her head. “You’re a fucking witch.”
“And you’re a dirty, mean, nasty bastard.” She was struggling to catch her breath. Her pussy was still contracting around him.
“Yeah, well, I guess you’re used to that, what with all those dirty, mean, nasty bastards in your family.”
“Speak for yourself, Hermanus.”
He released her and rolled off, landing on his back with his hand over his chest. “Shut up,” he said.
“But…”
“No.” His tone was sharp. “Just lie there and shut the fuck up, will you; otherwise, I’ll make you.”
Chapter Eight
Beth mimicked Roper’s body language and rested her hand on her chest. Her heart was thudding and her breasts rising and falling as she gained control of her breathing.
She was hot, her skin tingling, and she was aware of sweat on her sternum and her underarms. Between her legs she was wet—wet with Roper’s cum and her arousal. Would she get pregnant? Was he clean?
Despite the fact they should feel huge, these seemed like minor worries right now. She was in bed with a damn Hermanus. He’d likely slit her throat in the night. She had to get away, take whatever path, road, form of transport she could and put distance between them. There was no way she could go to Toronto now. He’d be looking for her there.
Her mind was a swarm of thoughts and plans. Options were few because she had no money. But he did. She’d wait until he was asleep. Take the wad of cash she’d spied in his wallet and lay low for the night. There were woods behind the motel, a vast expanse of trees that they’d been driving alongside for miles. If she could find somewhere sheltered, she’d be okay till morning. Then…then she’d hitch a lift to somewhere new and throw him off her scent.
She stared at the ceiling. A strange brown stain, shaped like the continent of Africa, was right above her—a water leak from the room above maybe. She didn’t know. But if there were residents up there, she was surprised they hadn’t come to see what the racket was about. But then again, this was the sort of seedy motel full of people who didn’t want to be noticed, so they wouldn’t pop their heads out of the door to enquire about other people’s business.
Live and let live.
Her heart rate steadied, but a surge of adrenaline continued to course through her system. The room had fallen dark, and she looked past Roper to the window. Outside, night had crept up on them. The trees were tall, shifting shadows standing in the faint light of the motel.
She shifted her attention to Roper. He appeared to be sleeping. His breathing was steady and quiet, and he hadn’t moved in ages.
A thudding noise caught her attention. Someone banging on a door a little way down.
She stared at Roper, willing him not to stir.
He didn’t.
Carefully, she propped up onto her elbow. His eyes were shut, his lips slightly parted.
For a moment, she enjoyed watching him sleep. In this unguarded state, his features were softer, and she could imagine him being relaxed and loving.
Damn shame she’d never get to see that.
Stealthily, she slipped from the bed, being careful not to make any sudden movements. Once standing, she studied him again.
No change.
She glanced around, remembering where she’d left her clothes. They weren’t exactly suitable for a night out in the woods, but what choice did she have? She dressed, pulled on her jacket and boots, then spotted a spare blanket on the shelf by the wardrobe. That would be worth taking.
With it under her arm, she walked to the side of the bed where Roper had placed his keys and wallet.
Again, she looked at him. His hairy chest was steadily expanding and contracting and his cock lay flaccid on his tangle of pubic hairs.
I don’t want to go.
She shook that thought from her head. There was no other way; she had no choice. It was a matter of self-preservation. Getting as far away as possible from the Hermanus she’d unwittingly stumbled across was essential to staying alive.
Continuing to be around him would be a death sentence.
She wiped at an annoying tear that had gathered on her lower eyelid, then reached for his wallet. She flipped it open and withdrew all the bills. There was enough to keep her going for a while.
Knowing she couldn’t linger, she headed for the door and pulled it open.
Standing before her was a man wearing a blue jacket with a Domino’s Pizza patch stitched onto it. He was holding two large boxes and a bag of takeout food. “Hey, miss, you order pizza? This place is fucking miles out and you gave the wrong room number.”
Her heart flipped. She pushed down a wave of nausea. Damn pizza, she’d forgotten about that—too busy fucking and then planning an escape.
She had no time to lose.
Without answering, she barged past the Domino’s man, shoving him to the left with her shoulder.
Something hit the floor; she wasn’t sure what.
“Hey, lady, you still have to pay for that.”
Christ, why couldn’t he shut up? She ran for the end of the walkway, descended the steps two at a time, then, instead of taking off across the lot, she headed around the back of the motel, past the air conditioning units, the trash and onto a small bank sparkling with night dew.
She glanced behind herself. No one was following.
But Roper must have woken. He wouldn’t sleep through the dumb ass pizza boy at the door. And he’d know she was gone. And if he went to pay for the pizza, he’d know she’d taken his cash.
Running down the bank, she slipped on an icy patch and lost her balance. She put her hand out to break her fall, twisted her wrist, and landed hard on her ass. The blanket escaped and rolled to the bottom of the dark gulley.
Ignoring the pain in her wrist, she shuffled down after it, the bank steeper than she’d first thought. When she reached the bottom, she grabbed the blanket and carried on running toward the gloom of the trees.
If she could just get there. Darkness would be her savior.
But the darkness wasn’t kind to her. As soon as she entered the treeline, mean branches and hidden twigs caught in her hair and scratched her already chilled cheeks. She stretched her hands out, trying to pre-empt them, but still they attacked her.
Her ankle went down a rabbit hole. “Ahh…”
“Beth, get back here.” Roper’s voice was deep and angry.
Fuck! He’d followed her. She’d thought he’d head to the road, but he’d come the exact route she had. He was just behind her, probably on the bank.
She worked her way deeper into the woods, stamping through marshy ground that slowed her progress. It was hard even to see her hand in front of her face. Light just couldn’t penetrate the evergreen foliage.
Deciding to stick to the edge of the woods instead, she took a right, forcing past a jumble of branches and shrubs that clung to each other.
“Beth, what the fuck are you playing at?”
Getting away from you, Hermanus.
Breathing was hard. She hated these woods. What was lurking here? Sh
e didn’t know, but whatever it was, she stood a better chance here than in that motel room with Roper.
She staggered on, gaining a bit more ground between them.
Five minutes passed and he hadn’t called again. Perhaps he’d only guessed she’d come this way and he’d given up on finding her. Had he taken to his bike? Hoping to catch her at the side of the road hitching a lift? She hoped so because that meant soon she could find a tree trunk to rest against and use the blanket to keep off a fraction of the cold.
Suddenly, she ran into something solid but warm. Whatever it was gripped her arms.
She screamed. A white-hot flash of panic tore through her. She kicked, tried to throw a punch, lurched backward. The blanket fell to the ground.
“For fuck’s sake, stop it.” The grip tightened. “It’s me.”
Roper?
“Leave me alone. I won’t go with you. I’m not going to be bait. I won’t let you.”
“Shut the fuck up. You’re not bait.”
She managed to get out of his grasp and spun around toward the denseness of the woods. She’d have to brave it.
Pitching forward, she set off at a run.
But she only managed two paces before a big arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her from the ground. Again, she thrashed and kicked; she dug her fingers into his arm and tried to peel it away.
“Don’t fight because then it really will get ugly,” he snarled by her ear.
“It’s already…ugly.”
“No, it’s not.” He wrapped his other arm around her.
She remembered his wound and aimed a hard whack in the general direction. “Bastard. Get off!”
“Argh! Bitch!”
Her satisfaction lasted only a split second because he clamped his hand over her mouth and marched from the woods. The motel wasn’t far away.
She’d hardly run any distance before he’d found her. He was right. She was a little girl, and damn pathetic at that.
A sob burbled up from her chest, and she stopped struggling. What was the point? He was three times her weight and size and could probably win medals with his fighting abilities. What was she good at? Ballet, horseback riding, eating in posh restaurants and spending her father’s money. Okay, so she’d wizened up on the streets of New York, but Roper was a whole different ball game.
“You’re going to keep your damn mouth shut, okay?”
She nodded.
He removed his hand.
She was good to her word, despite the fact they were close to the motel. There was a chance if she shouted out now, yelled for help, someone would hear and come to her aid.
But what the hell would Roper do to them if anyone could be bothered to move their ass and help her? There’d be blood spilled for sure. And then what would he do to her for causing trouble?
He dumped her on the ground, and luckily, she landed on her feet. A pain shot from her ankle.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” he said, gripping her about the waist and holding her close as they climbed the bank. “Fuck knows what’s out there in those woods.”
“Don’t tell me you were concerned for my safety.”
“Actually, yeah, I was. You’d fare better hitching with some pervert truck driver than spending a night out in this. It’s well below freezing.”
She shivered at the mention of the cold. He was right—it was bitter. She probably wouldn’t have survived. A thin motel blanket would have been a paltry excuse for shelter. They were farther north than New York here, and that had been bone-freezing enough.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, rubbing her upper arm. “Stupidest damn stunt I ever had some crazy-assed chick pull on me.”
“Yeah, well…” She had to pause while her teeth chattered. “I ain’t any old crazy-assed chick.”
“Too damn right you’re not. You’re fucking Rammada crazy.” He steered her past the trash and the air con units, toward their room. The door was wide open, light spilling onto the walkway. “And you told me you wouldn’t pull any of that shit.”
“Yeah, well, that’s before I figured out I was sleeping with the enemy.”
He shoved her into the room, released her, then slammed the door. “There ain’t been a whole lot of sleeping between us, just damn hot fucking.”
She turned from him and pulled his cash from her pocket. She threw the wad of bills onto the dressing table. “Sorry about that.” Fuck, she’d been stupid to run into the woods, damn stupid to take his money, but letting him catch her was the dumbest thing she’d done all night.
“You think I care about a few thousand dollars?”
“I would.” But the fact he didn’t told her one thing; he wasn’t strapped for cash. But then, when had the Hermanus family ever been destitute? Never. Unlike her family.
He frowned at her. “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“’Course you are, and besides you need to put some weight on.”
“I do not.”
“I can see your ribs and a bit more of a handful when I hold your ass and tits would be nice.”
“There won’t be anymore ass and tit holding.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.” He flipped the lid on the pizza box and picked up a slice of the vegetarian. “Here. Eat.”
God, he was an arrogant bastard. As if she’d fuck him now he’d dragged her back here and was holding her against her will.
“Beth, don’t make me shove it down your throat because you know damn well I will.”
Scowling, she took the lukewarm pizza and bit into it.
He fussed with the coffee machine, filling it in the bathroom, then setting it to brew.
The pizza wasn’t too bad, and after she started eating, her hunger crept up on her again. She helped herself to another slice and sat on the hard chair by the window.
Roper tucked into the meat pizza, devouring it quickly and efficiently.
When he finished eating, the coffee had gurgled through, so he handed her a cup. “Why’d you run off?”
She took it and cradled it in her hands, avoiding his eye contact. “Why do you think?”
“Well, I’m guessing it’s because our families are long-standing rivals, but that can’t be the reason you’d run into freezing woods without any equipment.”
“Long-standing rivals is one way of putting it.”
“That’s what it is.” He sat on the bed, leaned forward and rested his forearms on his elbows. He studied her intently.
“They hate each other.” She sipped her coffee. “Our families hate each other.”
“We don’t hate each other.”
“No?”
“Well…” He jerked his head. “You haven’t given me any reason to hate you, if I don’t count that run out there in the damn cold, but if you—”
“I do hate you?” She huffed.
“That’s charming. I brought you in off the streets, fed you, cleaned you up, made you come, spectacularly, several times, and that’s how you feel about me.”
She studied his face, the way the shadows slashed over his features and the lighting in the room highlighted his scar. She didn’t hate him. She was grateful for what he’d done before she’d found out he was a Hermanus. Hell, she was more than grateful. Her emotions had extended into being really fucking hot for him.
But now they knew the truth about their identities…what could they ever be to each other?
Is that really why I ran off? Too damn scared of falling for a Hermanus?
She set down her mug and rubbed her hands over her face, pushing her palms against her eyes. What a fucked-up mess. He was right. She shouldn’t have run away like that. He hadn’t shown any indication he was going to hurt her or hand her over to her enemies. It had been reckless and foolish and not well thought through.
“I don’t really hate you,” she said quietly. She didn’t know why she couldn’t look at him as she’d spoken, but she couldn’t. Family loyalty? Denying to herself that
her feelings had been heading toward the opposite end of the hate scale?
He tugged her wrists, forcing her to move her hands from her face. “Open your eyes.”
He was kneeling in front of her, his face level with hers, and with several frown lines plowing across his brow. “Talk to me,” he said. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“We’ll go separate ways tomorrow,” she said. “Perhaps you’ll lend me some cash to get on my way. I’ll pay it back as soon as I can.”
He shook his head and bit on his bottom lip.
“Okay.” She half shrugged. “I don’t need Hermanus money anyway.”
“I’m taking you to Toronto, as I said I would.”
“I’m not going there now.” She tore her gaze from his face and stared at the bed that was still crumpled from their wild fucking.
“You are, and I’ll take you.”
“Why would you want to take me? Why aren’t you sending me packing? Have you forgotten who I am? Forgotten that I tricked you.” She added a note of sarcasm into that last sentence.
“No, not for a second have I forgotten who you are.” He released her wrists and cupped her cheeks. Leaned closer. “And you didn’t trick me anymore than I sought out a Rammada.” He frowned. “We’ve established that.”
She stared at the way his dark facial hair sat above his top lip, dipping into his cupid’s bow. Damn, he was beautiful this close up.
“Someone, somewhere,” he said, flicking his eyes to look up at the ceiling for a second, “planned for us to meet. Meant for us to get together…like this.”
Suddenly, he was kissing her, his mouth soft and gentle as it moved against hers. No tongue, just delicate sweeps of his lips.
Despite herself, a small sigh escaped, and she reached for his wrists, gripped them, loving the feel of his strength and the muscles and tendons that stretched hard and long beneath the surface.
“Mmm…” he murmured, “That’s it. Give in to it. Give in to what fate planned for us.”
“No…I won’t.”
“You already are.” He kissed her again, then poked his tongue between her teeth and swept it over hers.
She opened up for him. Roper’s kisses were addictive, whether they were frantic and passionate like before, or tender and gentle like this one.