white teeth. âThe nameâs Harper Neeley, little darlinâ. Mean anything to you?â
She caught her breath, because she knew the name. She had snooped through Mamaâs things on a regular basis. âYes,â she said, so excited she could barely stand still. âYouâre my daddy.â
Heâd been surprised that sheâd known who he was, she thought now, watching him as he lazed beneath the tree while he waited for her. But as excited as sheâd been at meeting him, he really hadnât given a damn that she was his daughter. Harper Neeley had a bunch of kids, at least half of them bastards. One more, even if that one was a Davenport, didnât mean anything to him. Heâd approached her just for the hell of it, not because he really cared.
Somehow, that had excited her. It was like meeting the secret Jessie, walking around in her fatherâs body.
He fascinated her. She had made a point of meeting with him occasionally over the years. He was rough and totally selfish, and she often felt as if he were laughing at her. It infuriated her, but whenever she saw him, she still felt that same electric excitement. He was so nasty, so totally unacceptable to her social circle ⦠and he was hers.
Jessie couldnât remember exactly when the excitement had turned sexual. Maybe it had always been like that, butshe just hadnât been ready to recognize it. She had been so focused on bringing Webb to heel, so careful to indulge herself only when she was safely away from her home area, that it simply hadnât occurred to her.
But one day, about a year ago, when she had seen him, the usual excitement had suddenly sharpened, turned almost feral in its intensity. She had been furious with Webbâwhat was new about that?âand Harper had been right there, his thickly muscled body enticing her, his hot blue eyes drifting down her body in a way no father should ever look at his daughter.
She had hugged him, cuddled against him, sweetly called him âDaddy,â and all the while she had been rubbing her breasts against him, rolling her hips against his pecker. That was all it had taken. Heâd laughed down at her, then crudely grabbed her crotch and shoved her to the ground, where they had gone at each other like animals.
She couldnât stay away from him. She had tried, knowing how dangerous he was, knowing that she had no power to control him, but he drew her like a lodestone. There were no games she could play with him, because he knew her exactly for what she was. There was nothing he could give her and nothing that she wanted from him, except for the mindless, heated sex. No one had ever screwed her the way her daddy did. She didnât have to gauge her every reaction or try to manipulate his response; all she could do was simply lose herself in the hot nastiness of the sex. Whatever he wanted to do to her, she was willing. He was trash, and she loved it, because he was the best revenge she could ever have chosen. When Webb got into bed beside her at night, it served him right that he was sleeping with a woman who, only hours before, had been sticky with Harper Neeleyâs leavings.
CHAPTER 4
R oanna stared after Jessie as she rode away from Davencourt, up toward the hilly part of the Davenport lands. Jessie usually preferred a less demanding ride, over fields or level pastures. Why would she deviate from custom? Come to think of it, she had ridden that way a couple of times before, and Roanna had noticed it but not paid attention to it. For some reason, this time she was puzzled.
Maybe it was because she still felt resentful at Jessieâs last zinger, though God knows it hadnât been any worse than the usual cut at her fragile self-esteem. Maybe it was because she, unlike everyone else,
expected
Jessie to be up to no good. Maybe it was that damn perfume. She hadnât been wearing it at lunch, Roanna thought. A scent that strong would have been
She caught her breath, because she knew the name. She had snooped through Mamaâs things on a regular basis. âYes,â she said, so excited she could barely stand still. âYouâre my daddy.â
Heâd been surprised that sheâd known who he was, she thought now, watching him as he lazed beneath the tree while he waited for her. But as excited as sheâd been at meeting him, he really hadnât given a damn that she was his daughter. Harper Neeley had a bunch of kids, at least half of them bastards. One more, even if that one was a Davenport, didnât mean anything to him. Heâd approached her just for the hell of it, not because he really cared.
Somehow, that had excited her. It was like meeting the secret Jessie, walking around in her fatherâs body.
He fascinated her. She had made a point of meeting with him occasionally over the years. He was rough and totally selfish, and she often felt as if he were laughing at her. It infuriated her, but whenever she saw him, she still felt that same electric excitement. He was so nasty, so totally unacceptable to her social circle ⦠and he was hers.
Jessie couldnât remember exactly when the excitement had turned sexual. Maybe it had always been like that, butshe just hadnât been ready to recognize it. She had been so focused on bringing Webb to heel, so careful to indulge herself only when she was safely away from her home area, that it simply hadnât occurred to her.
But one day, about a year ago, when she had seen him, the usual excitement had suddenly sharpened, turned almost feral in its intensity. She had been furious with Webbâwhat was new about that?âand Harper had been right there, his thickly muscled body enticing her, his hot blue eyes drifting down her body in a way no father should ever look at his daughter.
She had hugged him, cuddled against him, sweetly called him âDaddy,â and all the while she had been rubbing her breasts against him, rolling her hips against his pecker. That was all it had taken. Heâd laughed down at her, then crudely grabbed her crotch and shoved her to the ground, where they had gone at each other like animals.
She couldnât stay away from him. She had tried, knowing how dangerous he was, knowing that she had no power to control him, but he drew her like a lodestone. There were no games she could play with him, because he knew her exactly for what she was. There was nothing he could give her and nothing that she wanted from him, except for the mindless, heated sex. No one had ever screwed her the way her daddy did. She didnât have to gauge her every reaction or try to manipulate his response; all she could do was simply lose herself in the hot nastiness of the sex. Whatever he wanted to do to her, she was willing. He was trash, and she loved it, because he was the best revenge she could ever have chosen. When Webb got into bed beside her at night, it served him right that he was sleeping with a woman who, only hours before, had been sticky with Harper Neeleyâs leavings.
CHAPTER 4
R oanna stared after Jessie as she rode away from Davencourt, up toward the hilly part of the Davenport lands. Jessie usually preferred a less demanding ride, over fields or level pastures. Why would she deviate from custom? Come to think of it, she had ridden that way a couple of times before, and Roanna had noticed it but not paid attention to it. For some reason, this time she was puzzled.
Maybe it was because she still felt resentful at Jessieâs last zinger, though God knows it hadnât been any worse than the usual cut at her fragile self-esteem. Maybe it was because she, unlike everyone else,
expected
Jessie to be up to no good. Maybe it was that damn perfume. She hadnât been wearing it at lunch, Roanna thought. A scent that strong would have been
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