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Maybe I’ve just lost my mind because two hot men with amazing cocks who give me more orgasms than a girl knows what to do with have me in their sights and don’t want to let go.
They’re fighting over me. The realization rocks me like a shockwave.
I’m addicted to danger. I always have been. And now, I’m paying the price for it.
I want…
I don’t know what I want.
This is complicated.
I don’t do complicated.
“Magdalena?”
The velvet sandpaper of Hendrick’s voice sends a cold shiver down my spine. And I turn, slowly.
He’s completely dressed, the only man I know who can make black trousers and a sweater suddenly look like a suit. There’s a coldness in his eyes that I’ve never seen. It’s colder than the anger when he saw the bruises from Jac.
And…
Shit, seeing Jac, hearing his story, this… He’s looking at me like he’s what Jac accused him of. No, he’s looking at me like I think he’s what Jac accused him of.
It’s how I know he didn’t want to hurt Lili.
That and the tone in his voice when he’s mentioned her.
He might hate Jac, but he’s got a soft spot for the sister. Had.
I lick my lips, a thousand thoughts swirling. Anger, confusion, lust, dislike. For him, for Jac.
And that lust isn’t just for him or Jac, it’s also for the Heart of Dark Desires, because I know myself well enough to know that priceless, legendary jewel is why I’m in so deep. I want that, too. Maybe the same amount, or maybe more.
“What the hell’s the agenda here, Hendrick?”
He stares at me, checking his pockets, pulling out that wallet. He stares at it a long time before putting it back. “I’m not Jac’s keeper.”
“Hendrick, he—”
“Accused me of being a monster? Of me wanting to rape his sister?” His mouth twists into a bitter line. “I heard.”
“I don’t think—”
“That fucking piece of…” He stops, pushes a hand through his hair, and that cold look blasts arctic winds right through my soul. “I should go.”
He doesn’t ask if I believe Jac. He doesn’t offer excuses or denials. What I see is a man hurting, a man crippled with hate and anger and pain. And I think he thinks I believe Jac.
I’m not sure how much of what Jac said Jac believes, about Hendrick’s intent that night when his sister died.
“You’re not going to ask what I think, Hendrick?”
“Should I?”
“I think,” I say, not moving from where I stand. I’m more than aware it’s in front of the door, like I can stop him leaving. “I don’t think you’re what he said.”
“The bottom line in all this is that Lili is dead. I should go.”
“And yet you’re standing there,” I say.
