Debt Ridden – Jessa Kane

I can’t let her know how eager I am. Can’t let her know that I am salivating over the fact that she is on the other side of this door naked. Waiting for me to come collect on her parents’ debt. Although… There must be a conscience rattling around somewhere inside of me, because the insane lust raging inside of me is now tinged with guilt. Shame. I’m a thirty-five-year-old man about to defile an eighteen-year-old girl who set out to be brave for her family.

To fix a problem she didn’t cause. Perhaps if I wasn’t so fucking drawn to Billie, I’d forgive the debt without making her sacrifice her body. But I know damn well there is no other way I can have her. No other way she’d choose me. She’s a light. I’m a dweller of the dark. If this is the only way I can experience her, so be it.

I’ll ignore my conscience. I’ll ignore how she’s getting to me…emotionally. That horrifying admission has me ripping the door open with a snarl curling my upper lip. I’m going to attack her. I’m going to spread her legs open and ride her as hard as I want, because that was the deal. I get to do anything I want to her. Right? I’m in a trance at the foot of the bed, however.

Marveling at the treasure laid out before me. She’s exquisite. I’m a rich man simply by observing Billie, naked in my bed. Her pussy is a shadow between her bent knees, her tits rising and falling with nervousness. Her wet hair has been towel dried and left to fall in dark brown waves on my comforter. I can smell the fresh, inviting warmth of her flesh.

That spot where her tight ass cheeks transform into her cunt makes my balls clench and out of necessity, I unzip my jeans, relieving some of the pressure. Pressure she causes just by existing. “You actually followed instructions for once,” I say, sounding winded. Her gentle smile reaches me in the dark. “Don’t get used to it,” she whispers. I make a gruff, involuntary sound. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m overwhelmed with hunger for her.

All of her. Her delectable body, her quick wit, her soft heart, her admirable courage. Instead of holding her down and taking what I need with some impersonal fuck, I find myself unbuttoning my shirt and removing it, knowing if I don’t feel her skin against mine, I’ll regret it for the rest of my miserable life. I notice her breathing quicken once I’m bare chested and wonder what it means. Does she enjoy my body, with all its crude ink and shank wounds?

Doesn’t matter what she enjoys, roars some angry voice in the back of my head.

I HUDDLE on my bedroom floor, hugging my knees to my chest while my parents argue in stressed out whispers on the other side of the door. They think I’m sleeping and don’t want to wake me up, but my mother had an extra tumbler of whiskey tonight, so she’s not as quiet as she thinks, her sobs cutting into me through the wood at my back.

“What are we going to do, Porter?” asks my mother. “That fancy horse trainer came into the town and stole half of our business. His cattle are more in demand, and heck, we lost sixteen cows to bloat in the fall. We’re behind six months on the mortgage.

I just…I don’t see a way out of this debt without declaring bankruptcy.” “I told you, I’m not doing that,” my father whispers, the pain clear in his voice. Pain that razes my insides. Bankruptcy. I’ve heard the word whispered before. I’m eighteen and I paid attention in school all the way up to graduation day. Especially in economics class, because my plan was always to take over the ranch someday. It’s the only home I’ve ever known.

I know what it means to declare oneself financially ruined—and I know my father’s pride will never survive that. His standing in town, respect from his fellow ranchers, his sense of self. He values those things so highly and he would be sacrificing them all. “Maybe you could take a trip up the mountain and speak to Knox Morgan?” My entire body tenses at the mention of his name. The mysterious man who swooped in and purchased our land, as well as thousands of other Montana acres that surround us.

We pay him the mortgage now. Dozens of our neighbors call him landlord, as well. He lives up on the mountain overlooking everything he owns. I’ve never met him in person, but I’ve been terrified of him for years. My father sighs at my mother’s suggestion that he go pay Knox Morgan a visit. “The man doesn’t take kindly to visitors, and there is no way in hell he would forgive our debt, woman.

He’d throw me out of his house and shoot me in the ass for good measure.” I shiver at my father’s hushed words. “I met him one single time at a town hall meeting. Trust me, he’s made of pure ice. The most hateful human being I’ve ever encountered in my lifetime. There is no help to be given from that corner, trust me.” Hmm. Is that so? My toxic trait is that when a task is labeled impossible, I feel personally challenged to prove that it’s not impossible for me.

Many horses have come through our ranch that were called wild.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: ede037704b90fd03
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,220,410 bytes (1.164 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 79
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 115.9 minutes
• Total Words: 23,180
• Total Characters: 124,335
• Average Words per Page: 293.42
• Average Characters per Page: 1573.86

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