Shades of Twilight by Linda Howard Read Free Book Online Page B

then he’d always been so damn cocksure of himself that sometimes she nearly died with the urge to slap him. That she never had was due to two things: one, she hadn’t wanted to do anything that would hurt her chances of ruling supreme at Davencourt when Grandmother finally died; and two, she had the uneasy suspicion that Webb wouldn’t be a gentleman about it. No, it was more than a suspicion. Hemight pull the wool over everyone else’s eyes, but she knew what a ruthless bastard he was.
    She had been a fool to marry him. Surely she could have gotten Grandmother to change her will and leave Davencourt to her instead of to Webb. After all,
she
was a Davenport, not Webb. It should have been hers by right. Instead she’d had to marry that damn tyrant, and she’d made a big mistake in doing so. Chagrined, she had to admit that she’d overestimated her own charms and her ability to influence him. She thought she’d been so smart, refusing to sleep with him before marriage; she’d liked the idea of keeping him frustrated, liked the image of him panting after her like a dog after a bitch in heat. It had never been quite that way, but she’d cherished the image anyway. Instead, she’d been infuriated to learn that, rather than suffering because he couldn’t have her, the bastard had simply been sleeping with other women—while he insisted she be faithful to him!
    Well, she’d shown him. He was an even bigger fool than she was if he really believed she’d kept herself “pure” for him all those years while he was out screwing those bitches he met in college and at work. She knew better than to mess up her own playground, but whenever she could get away for a day or a weekend, she quickly found some lucky guy to take the edge off, so to speak. Attracting men was disgustingly easy—just give them a whiff and they came running. She’d done it the first time at the age of sixteen and had immediately discovered a delicious source of power over men. Oh, she’d had to do some pretending when she and Webb had finally married, whimpering and actually squeezing out a tear or two so he’d think his big bad pecker was actually hurting her poor little
virginal
pussy, but inside she’d been gloating that he’d been so easy to fool.
    She’d also been gloating because now she was finally going to have the power in their relationship. After years of having to sweetly kowtow to him, she’d thought she had him where she wanted him. It was humiliating to remember howshe’d thought he’d be more easily handled once they were married and she had him in bed with her every night. God knows, most men thought with their peckers. All of her discreet liaisons over the years had told her that she wore them out, that they couldn’t keep up with her, but they’d all said it with big smiles. Jessie took pride in her ability to screw a man into limp exhaustion. She’d had it all planned: screw Webb’s brains out every night, and he’d be putty in her hands during the day.
    But it hadn’t worked out that way at all. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she guided her horse across a shallow creek, taking care that the water didn’t splash on her shiny boots. For one thing, more often than not she was the one who was left exhausted. Webb could go at it for hours, his eyes remaining cool and watchful no matter how she panted and jerked her hips and worked him over, as if he knew she regarded it as a competition and was damned if he’d let her win. It hadn’t taken her long to learn that he could outlast her, and she would be the one left lying exhausted on the twisted sheets, her loins throbbing painfully from such hard use. And no matter how hot the sex, no matter how she sucked or stroked or did anything else, once it was finished and Webb was out of bed, he went about his business as if nothing had happened, and she could just