Despised: A Reverse Harem Academy Bully Romance (Dukes of Dunwich Book 1)

by Payton Reed

  “Come on inside. Ma made breakfast.”

  She followed him into the house, stomach fluttering with nerves. She looked around, finding it decorated with furniture that didn’t quite match. There were knitted or crocheted afghans covering the chairs and couches, and she assumed they were handmade, likely by Martha Underell. She’d be surprised if they weren’t.

  Jonas took her hand and pulled her into the kitchen, directing her where to go. She took a deep breath as she crossed the threshold, her gaze meeting the eyes of the stern-looking woman by the stove. She was shorter than Willow, with a pleasingly plump frame and dark hair streaked liberally with gray. She had brown eyes like Jonas, and they had the same nose. She was also several years older than Willow had expected her to be. She seemed to be mid-sixties, so Jonas must have been born when she was in her forties.

  She wiped her hands on her apron as she came forward when Jonas said, “Come meet my girlfriend, Ma.”

  It was difficult to tell if she was reluctant to meet Willow, or if she was just uncertain about the situation. Maybe she was shy. Whatever it was, there was certainly reluctance in her posture as she crossed the kitchen and thrust out her hand.

  Willow took it, shaking a couple of times before the woman let go. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  His mother nodded. She didn’t reciprocate the sentiment.

  “Ma, this is Willow Munroe. Willow, this is my mother, Martha.”

  “How do you do, Mrs. Underell?”

  “Just fine. Why don’t you both have a seat at the table? I’ve got a ton of food, since I don’t know what people like you might eat.”

  Jonas frowned. “Ma,” he said with a hint of warning.

  Martha just shrugged. “It’s true, isn’t it? I don’t know what rich people eat. That Stasia girl wouldn’t eat anything the one time she deigned to visit.”

  Willow was trying not to let the unwelcome vibe she was getting from Martha deter her. She managed what she hoped was a genuine smile and a mild tone as she avoided addressing the topic of Stasia. “I wouldn’t really know either. Until a few months ago, my mom and I lived in Springfield, outside of Portland. It’s a pretty rough place.”

  Martha looked surprised. “Are you on scholarship then?”

  She shook her head. “My mom married someone with enough money to strand me here.”

  Martha’s eyes twinkled for just a moment, and she was clearly tempted to laugh. That never came to fruition as she herded them through the arched entryway to the dining room.

  In here, there was a large wooden table and chairs, and Martha hadn’t been exaggerating when she said there was a ton of food on the table. Willow’s stomach hurt just looking at all of it. “How many people are coming for breakfast?”

  “Just the four of us,” said Jonas, “But the farmhands will stop by and grab plates as well. Normally, they might sit with us, but we wanted to make this just a family meal.”

  Willow nodded, feeling relieved she wasn’t expected to eat roughly her weight in food. She looked around. “Where’s your dad?”

  “That stubborn old coot’s out preparing the fields along with the farmhands. I told him not to, but he acts like he’s invincible.” Martha delivered that explanation as she brought in a bowl of gravy.

  “He tends to overdo it, and then he pays for it.” Jonas looked frustrated. “There’s nothing we can really do to stop him, short of tying him down, but it worries both of us.”

  “I can see why.” A moment later, she took a seat at the table in the chair Jonas indicated, and he helped her push it in. He was definitely a gentleman which she found endearing.

  At that moment, she heard a door opening nearby, followed by the sound of stamping feet, which preceded the arrival of Jonas’s father a few moments later. He nodded to Willow as he sat down. “How’re you doing, darlin’?”

  She smiled, liking him instantly. “I’m well, Mr. Underell.”

  He waved a big, beefy hand. “Don’t be so formal. Call me Hank.” His eyes, a merry blue, twinkled with delight, and he was clearly an open and approachable man. Like Martha, he was older than she’d expected, lending credence to her theory that Jonas had been an unexpected later-life baby for an otherwise-childless couple

  “I’m Willow.” Jonas had likely been on the verge of introducing them, but she didn’t see the need to wait. She reached out a hand, since she was sitting on his left side, and he took it to shake.

  “How was work?” asked Jonas with a faint hint of disapproval. “You weren’t doing any heavy labor, were you, Dad?”

  Hank shrugged. “Oh, maybe a bit. We’re in a rush, Willow.”

  She was surprised he directed that toward her, and she nodded. “Why?”

  “We’re due to get some heavy snow, and we need to get the fields prepped. We seem to be really running behind this year. The weather was so erratic that we couldn’t plant until later, and we’re rushing against Mother Nature to get the fields prepared so they can be ready for spring planting.”

  “Is there something I can do to help?” asked Willow.

  Hank leaned forward. “Now that you mention it…”

  “Dad, I didn’t bring Willow here to slave away all weekend.” Jonas sounded irritated.

  Willow grinned. “I really don’t mind helping. It might be fun. Maybe I can figure out if I’m a farm girl material.” She nudged him with her shoulder when she said that, remembering one of their first conversations.

  Jonas shook his head, but he sighed. “Maybe after breakfast we can help the farmhands. Dad, if we do, I want you to promise you’re going to rest.”

  Hank snorted. “I can’t rest if the fields aren’t ready, son.”

  Jonas looked frustrated again, but he just nodded before he started serving himself little cubed potatoes. He passed them to Willow, and that began the whirlwind of food selection. It took at least five minutes to select from all the different dishes, and though she only chose a few, she still had too much on her plate.

  Everything looked delicious though, and she closed her eyes with delight when she bit into the biscuits and gravy. “Oh, this is so good. My mom used to make this sometimes, but I haven’t had it since way before she married Ashton. His cook doesn’t make anything like this.” Willow tipped her nose into the air, adopting snooty tone. “I’m sorry. His chef. The Westerly’s would never be so base as to have a cook.”

  Martha’s eyes widened, and she looked like she was having a hard time deciding how to take that. “So, their people don’t cook anything like this?” She seemed faintly apprehensive.

  Willow shook her head as she took another bite, this time a juicy sausage. She chewed and swallowed before answering. “No, and I’ve missed it. Thank you for this, Mrs. Underell.”

  “Shoot, call ‘er Martha,” said Hank.

  Willow didn’t miss the way Martha’s face tightened at the words, or the slight pursing of her lips. There was no way she was going to accept Hank’s invitation to call Martha by her first name. That would have to come from Martha herself, and Willow highly doubted it would be issued this visit, if at all.

  After finishing breakfast, Jonas took her to the mudroom and handed her a pair of boots. They were too large on her, but they fit well enough that she could walk around in them. She bundled up and followed the two men from the house. It seemed like they walked a mile before they reached a field that was busy with activity.

  Hank called out, “Go get your breakfast, men.”

  “All men?” she asked Jonas quietly.

  Jonah shrugged. “We hire whom ever can do the job. I don’t think we’ve ever had a female applicant though. It’s a horrible job, as you’ll soon find out.”

  “I can handle it,” said Willow brightly.

  By the evening, she was miserable. What had she been thinking? She’d never done any real gardening, let alone spent so much time bent over. Her lower back ached, and her hands felt sore, like they might ripen with blisters at any moment.

  Jonas guided h
er up the stairs. “I told you to take a break when we had a chance.” His expression was concerned.

  “I’m fine. I didn’t want to disappoint your dad.” She definitely had no intention of volunteering for tomorrow though.

  Jonas swatted her on the butt as they reached the top floor. “Listen to me next time. This is hard work, and you shouldn’t have been doing it for most of the day. I’m going to have you take a bath, and I’ll bring up food. We can eat in my room.”

  She didn’t want to be rude, but as she started to protest the idea, her back spasmed. “I hope your mom won’t be angry.”

  “She’ll be fine. I’ll smooth it over if she’s upset, but I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  If she was as cool as she’d been that morning, she’d be thrilled Willow wasn’t joining them for dinner, though she likely wouldn’t approve of them eating in Jonas’s room.

  Jonas showed her the bathroom adjacent to his room, and she entered. It was like stepping into another world. The taps were the old-fashioned copper kind. There was a ceramic freestanding sink, a low-set commode, and a claw-footed tub. It appeared to be cast-iron and painted white. It wouldn’t surprise her to learn it was the original tub that had been in the house, since the house itself had to be at least a hundred years old.

  Jonas started the water for her before opening a cabinet to reveal a selection of bubble baths. “I don’t have anything too froufrou smelling, but you’re welcome to use any of these you might like.”

  Willow moved closer, wearing a small grimace after reading the labels. All the scents were distinctly masculine. She selected lemon verbena and doused the water liberally with it. Then she gestured for him to leave so she could undress and get in the tub.

  She was stiff everywhere, so undressing was a chore, but she felt almost immediately better than soon as she was in the hot water. She leaned back, appreciating there was a bath pillow attached to the tub. Judging from the selections of the bubble baths, this must be Jonas’s bathroom, and she liked the fact that he must enjoy soaking in the tub.

  In fact, she could imagine him in it with her. Despite her discomfort, her thighs clenched at the thought, and she closed her eyes as she imagined Jonas slipping in behind her. She wondered if she could persuade him to bathe with her before the weekend ended.

  When the water had started to go cold, she finally dragged herself out. Jonas had left her a big bath sheet, and she wrapped herself in it. She didn’t want to put on her dirty clothes, so she left on the towel. Her bag was still downstairs, so she’d ask Jonas to fetch it for her.

  He’d pointed out his room when showing her the bathroom, so she knew where to go. The door was partially open, so she rushed across the hallway and through the door before closing it behind her.

  Jonas was waiting for her on the futon. It was folded up like a couch, and his bed was in the corner. He’d placed TV trays in front of it, and they were laden with food that smelled so good it made her mouth water. She walked over and took a seat beside him. “That smells delicious.”

  “Would you like me to get your clothes? I can get your bag if you tell me where it is.”

  “It’s downstairs in the living room. I didn’t know where I’d be sleeping—”

  “With me,” he interjected before blushing. “I mean, if you want. Either way, you’ll be in here, but you can have the futon if you don’t want to share with me.”

  “Oh,” she said with a small squeak. “Your mom is okay with that?”

  “I’m an adult and contribute to the bills. I don’t need permission.”

  She swallowed, wondering if she should make a token effort to ask for a different room. Deciding she cared more about spending time with Jonas than earning brownie points with his mom, she snuggled a bit closer. “With you.”

  He grunted with what sounded like satisfaction. “Let me get your clothes.”

  She held up a hand. “Later. Let’s eat now.” Her stomach grumbled as though contributing to the conversation. “I need sustenance.”

  “Okay. Would you like to borrow one of my T-shirts instead of the towel?”

  It would certainly be more convenient not to have to worry about keeping her towel tucked in. “Yes, thank you.”

  Jonas got up and went to his dresser. He returned a moment later with a black T-shirt that he held out to her. He was a gentleman and turned his head when she stood up to remove the towel. When she slipped on the shirt, it smelled just like him. She inhaled deeply, and her core twitched with need. If she hadn’t been so hungry, she probably would’ve turned to him and suggested dinner could wait.

  As it was, her stomach grumbled again, and she sat down with Jonas and started eating. The fried chicken was delicious, as were the mashed potatoes and some kind of greens. They weren’t spinach or kale, but she didn’t know beyond that. Whatever they were, they were good.

  To her shock, she ate everything on the plate, though it was at least twice as much as she normally consumed. She sat back with her stomach full, grazing it. “That was so good. I can’t eat another bite.”

  Jonas took her plate off the TV tray and put it with his before reaching over to the table beside him. “Are you sure about that?” As he asked, he produced two dessert plates, both laden with a generous slice of cherry pie. “I didn’t bring any ice cream, since I figured it would melt, but I can get some if you want it?”

  Willow groaned. “I can’t eat it right now. Maybe we could have it in a little while? I mean, you should eat yours if you’re ready, but I think I’ll wait.

  “I’m happy to wait with you.” Jonas moved closer, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Shall we find something to watch?”

  She nodded, looking at the TV that had remained off while they ate and talked. It was mounted to the wall and was large enough to be seen from space. It was a typical bachelor TV, and she had no trouble seeing the screen even though it was on the far side of the room.

  After deciding on a mindless comedy, she curled against him. For the first half-hour, she just put her hand on his thigh and leaned against him as she waited for her stomach to feel more comfortable. She’d definitely overdone it, but as the too-full feeling faded away, her thoughts turned to just how close she was to Jonas, and how little clothing she was wearing.

  She moved her hand from his thigh to his stomach, slipping under the hem of his T-shirt. Jonas let out a ragged gasp as she traced his abs. He had a hard body, which didn’t surprise her. She’d felt it against her, and she’d seen how hard he worked, but she hadn’t yet seen him without a shirt.

  That seemed like a tragedy, so she grasped the hem of his shirt and started pulling it up as she shifted positions so that she was kneeling on the futon beside him. His skin was golden-brown, still bearing a faint hint of his summer tan.

  Without waiting for an invitation, she straddled his lap and started running her hands over his chest. He closed his eyes in pleasure when she lightly raked her fingernails across his nipples before lowering her head to kiss his neck. She started with gentle kisses across the column of his throat, but they gradually progressed from nibbles to deep suction as she rubbed herself against the bulge in his jeans.

  “Willow,” said Jonas in a way that was more exhale than a word. His hands went to her hips, cupping them through the fabric of his T-shirt covering her. He started moving her against him with more deliberate precision, and she abandoned his neck to take possession of his mouth.

  Her hands went to his hair, threading through to hold him against her as his hands crept up from her hips under the T-shirt. She gasped when his thumb brushed against her nipple, and she strained harder against him. Her fingers left his hair to wander down his chest again, over his stomach, and to the snap of his jeans. She was able to get that, but the zipper was foiling her. In their position, she couldn’t get it undone.

  Jonas drew back for a moment. “Maybe we should keep those on.”

  She frowned, feeling a little sulky. “Please, Jonas. I want to touch you and
see you.”

  With a groan of surrender, he lifted her as he stood up. She wrapped her thighs around his waist as he held her like that for a moment before turning around and setting her on the bed instead of the futon. Then he slipped off his jeans and briefs before joining her.

  Willow had taken the initiative to remove the borrowed shirt, and she tossed it on the floor where he’d left his clothes. She opened her arms to him, feeling a little vulnerable to be completely naked with someone. It was the first time she’d done something like this. Even with Dalton, she hadn’t been completely nude. Yet it felt right to feel every inch of Jonas’s skin against her.

  Their mouths met again, tongues tangling, as Jonas settled between her thighs. His erection wasn’t lined up properly, so all she could do was impatiently writhe against his lower abdomen.

  Jonas’s mouth left hers to venture farther south, pausing first to kiss her breasts and suck on her nipples, alternating between them for a few minutes until she was arching her back in protest. “I need more.”

  Jonas chuckled against her nipple, which was an amazing sensation she couldn’t describe, but his mouth went lower, sliding across her abdomen, and his tongue paused briefly to flirt around her belly button before he went lower still.

  Willow held her breath as he neared her pussy. She’d hoped the weekend would go like this, so she had physically prepared, but she wasn’t as certain she was completely emotionally prepared for the first time a man’s mouth kissed her there.

  He let out a pleased sound when he was nestled at the apex of her thighs, though he hadn’t touched her throbbing flesh yet. “Did you shave?”

  “Yeah, but if you like it, I thought about maybe waxing next time.” She’d removed every hair she could find and reach, and she hoped she was still as soft as she’d been this morning.

  “I like it very much, but you should only do that if you want to.” Those were the last words he spoke for a few moments as he lowered his head. At the first touch of his lips against her clit, she gasped and lifted her hips off the bed.