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He doesn’t move. “As Jac can attest, you’re really fucking hard to walk away from, Magdalena.”
He’s calling me by my real name again, and I don’t like it. “But you’re about to.”
“Thought you might want a clean sweep. You kicked out Jac when you actually wanted to ride him, and now, I’ll get the fuck out of dodge. Maybe you can join him and make effigies of me.”
“You’re an ass.” I stalk up and shove him.
“Magdalena.”
I shove him again, and he grabs my arms. “It was damning what he said, that it?” His words taunt.
I stare at him. “You and Jac and Lili—”
“Stick to robbing people,” he snaps. “With this shit, you don’t know a fucking thing.”
His words hurt. His eyes are colder, and I can hear in my mind a door bolting shut.
“Then fuck you, Hendrick. You both dragged me in the middle of your Lili feud. Neither of you tells the other a thing. You’re as bad as him.”
“How so?” he asks.
I shake him off and shove again. He grabs me and pulls me to the sofa, on top of him. I push him again, climbing up to my feet, and he sits, a cruel little smile, smug, like he bit off all the noses to spite every face. I want to hit him. My hand tingles with the need.
“Tell me,” he says. “How I’m as bad as fucking Jac.”
“Because I think you know more than he does and you’re not telling him. And what about his father, did you kill him? I’m guessing no. Because you have no qualms in stating the truth when you want, and I’ve found silence and side stepping from you, Hendrick, to be very loud and telling.”
“Fuck, next you’ll tell me you love me and really want to fuck Jac, too.” The look on his face is flat and cold and frightening.
I swallow hard. Because…because…there’s a part of me where that’s the exact truth.
There’s another part that could love the fantasy version of Jac who isn’t just a beautiful man with a perfect cock, a man who pushes the envelope in punishment and roughness, but a man who wants and deserves love.
I could love that fantasy and want to fuck Hendrick, too.
Hendrick andhisperfect cock. Hendrick and his complexities. Fuck.
They both scratch itches. They both drive me wild.
“If I said yes?”
“I’d say fuck you and fuck Jac. And I’d probably take you, anyway.” He spreads his hands, palms turned up. “And this won’t ever work.”
Pain lances me as I put my palms on his and our fingers lace together. “This situation is messy, Hendrick. Messy as fuck.”
“Complicated.”
“I don’t do complicated.” I step up and slide onto him, thighs on either side, and I’m aching so close to the glory of him.
His glance dips low to my pussy, then back up. “I fucking hate complicated. And I just might love you anyway.”
I make a sound as he releases my hands and slips them up my thighs, fingering my clit as I push into him. He kisses me. It’s harsh, rough, at odd with his words.
I kiss him back harder, rougher, shoving onto his fingers. He keeps one hand on my bare wet flesh and fumbles with his pants and releases himself, and soon, I’m rubbing, humping against the smooth heat and hardness of his dick.
My anger is at odds with my feelings, too.
Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe we’re both angry at how we feel. It’s not what he wants, that’s obvious.
