Page 138 of Cozen

Jett’s kiss coming down hard on her lips all but silenced her plans. She couldn’t afford to make this man think she was plotting against him in any kind of way, so despite the revulsion in her body, she responded back.

Fisted his suit jacket to bring him closer. Answered his kiss with her own. Laughed breathlessly when he murmured something unintelligible in her ear.

“Let me help you out of this dress,” he demanded.

Cozen swallowed hard when his mouth traveled down over the column of her neck. “Impatience looks good on no man.”

At least, not on this man.

Jett’s hands tightened on her body and in her hair. To an almost painful point as his gaze found hers again. The hand at her waist slipped lower, and snaked beneath the slit in her dress. All too soon, she felt his hand edging its way closer to the spot between her thighs.

All the while, Cozen grinned.

She didn’t show anything else.

Not her panic.

Not her disgust.

She kept that mask on—kept it firmly in place. She only needed to get Jett in a space where he was distracted, and then she was free to finish the rest of her business here. She would never need to deal with him again after tonight.

“Do you know how long I have waited to get a taste of you?” he asked.

Cozen cocked a brow.

She did know.

About as long as she had been waiting for her chance to extract a ruby ring from him. His fascination with her was only caused by her presence in his life, and little else. He never would have known she even existed in any other case.

“Do you know how long?” he asked again.

“Long enough, I imagine,” Cozen replied quietly.

Jett flashed a grin. “Then you will forgive me for my impatience. And for my forwardness, too, I hope.”

Cozen reached up to grab Jett’s jaw, and brought him in for a quick kiss. “You’re forgiven.”

As fast as she was on her feet, Cozen found herself turned around, and on her back on the bed. She stared up at the vaulted ceiling as Jett climbed over top on her. The slit in her dress had opened up entirely to expose her bare legs and thighs.

Not to mention, the red lace underneath.

Jett’s hands skimmed from her ankles to her knees, and then the insides of her thighs, too. He pushed her legs open a little more to fit in between, and his fingers dug firmly into her thighs. Hard enough to leave marks behind, likely.

She didn’t want his marks. His marks owned no place on her body. She was not his—not his to have, or to claim, or to leave a piece of him behind when he was done. She would never be his despite his foolish notions, and this diversion she was playing on him.

It’s a game. It’s a job.

Do what you have to do.

Cozen’s internal mantra helped to keep her steady. It helped to keep her legs open when all she wanted to do was close them, and put her fist through this man’s throat. She didn’t think that would work out very well for her in the end.

So instead, she played her part.

She did what was needed.

Widening her thighs, and letting his hands travel. Letting his mouth explore her inner thighs, and then higher on the swells of her breasts, and her throat. She pulled him closer when what she really wanted to do was shove him away, and she let him believe …

For a moment, he only had to believe this was real. Soon, reality was going to come down hard on Jett Griffin, and it would not be a nice place for him to be sitting. To realize that a woman he had become so attached to had only come into his life to use him, and hurt him in the end.