Page 107 of Cozen

Jett’s gaze had darkened with desire, and he didn’t try to hide it as he looked her over. “No worries, darling.”

He wanted more.

Far more.

Cozen could see it, and she had to figure out a way to get him out of her apartment before she was stuck doing something she would very much regret. For now, she focused on the ringing phone. She found it in her purse by the front door, and didn’t bother to check the caller ID before she answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Cozen, it’s Fourth.”

Jett rounded the corner in the hallway at the same time.

“F—”

“Astor,” the man murmured on the phone.

Oh, shit.

“Now is not a good time,” Cozen said.

Putting it lightly.

“Any time an Astor calls is always the right time. Good is a matter of semantics, and you answered the phone.”

Fuck.

“Cozen, is everything all right?” Jett asked at the end of the hall.

“Oh, you have guests?” Fourth asked. “I hope you’re not lounging around when you’re supposed to be getting my grandmother’s fucking ring. Speaking of which—why do you keep ignoring our phone calls?”

“Cozen?”

Jett again.

“Well?”

And then Fourth.

What had she gotten herself in to this time?

Sargon itched to do anything but what he was doing in those moments. His gaze hadn’t left Cozen’s apartment door from the second Jett had disappeared inside, and he heard the click of it shutting completely. He was frozen in place, and counting down the minutes of how long the man had been in there.

Alone.

With her.

Seven, now.

Seven minutes, but almost eight.

Closer to eight than seven.

Jesus.

Too damn long.

Long enough for him to have touched her. For him to have kissed her. For him to have had her, too, if he was the type to finish quite sadly and quickly.