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Woah, wait a minute. Did Jac just…?
I step back.
“This is way too complicated.” I want him to hold me, and I want him to go away at the same time. “All of it. I wanted money and to steal the jewels. That’s it.”
“So,” he says, “take my money, steal the necklace, and I’ll fuck your heart out. It’s not complicated.”
He doesn’t quite look at me.
I take a breath. “You’re not a good person, Jac.”
“None of us are,” he says, “but you can’t stop thinking about my cock. Can you?”
I want to say no, but it would be a lie, just like me saying I don’t want Hendrick’s a lie, too.
“Thought so.”
“You can think?” I ask, and I know it’s a provocation.
“I’m not sure that’s what interests you.”
“Jac.”
He tosses the earrings to the floor, and I open the door to go, but he grabs me, pulls me in and slams the door. Then he boxes me against it.
He looks me up. And then down.
“Tell me you don’t me.”
I moan. “Jac…”
“I’m going to really fuck you.” He stops, looks at me. “Whore.”
And my body turns electric. I sway toward him. God, I’m fucked up. “Do your worst.”
The thought of just throwing the outside world away for a few hours and losing myself, of fucking him, of feeling of his piercing in my pussy—slow. Hard. Fast. However—almost makes me come.
I want it again.
Desperately.
I want him.
Desperately.
One more time.
Then, I’m done. For good.
“My pleasure,” he says. “You’re going to fucking love my worst.”
TWENTY-TWO
HENDRICK
Jac doesn’t make the afternoon meeting I have at a bar in Millionaire’s Way. Stuffy and staid. Upscale and full of the well-heeled, the rich—both criminal and above board.
This is totally not Jac’s scene, and Jac isn’t known to be a player unless he chooses to. I should be glad he’s not here. I’m not.
