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I’m on my second drink in two hours when the front door opens and voices come in. Nora, a low rumble that’s probably the bodyguard with the monster cock—though how Jac knows…actually, I don’t want to know how he knows—then there is the caramel butter of Jac.
And my body buzzes.
Hendrick and Jac. They both set something off in me. Something no one else has ever done. Not to this degree. Not where my head gives over to the urges in me. Stupid, dangerous urges. Ones that only care about pleasure and nothing else.
Christ…
Jac’s voice drops, snaps out words, and then Nora cries out, “But, Jac, I wanted—”
He responds. I don’t hear his words. but the sentiment is clear.
Jac doesn’t give a fuck what she wants or doesn’t want.
And I remember he’s an asshole all over again.
The door shuts.
I don’t hear him approach, but I know when he appears.
Every nerve ending knows.
“MG Rossi. I don’t remember inviting your ass here.”
“You need a better alarm system. How was the rest of the party?”
“I’m not in the fucking mood to play,” he says. “I assume you have my goods?”
I never looked at them at home or here, no matter the latent itch I ignored.
Because I suspect if I had, I wouldn’t be here now.
I look at him. “I should put up the price.”
“You should shut that mouth.”
I get up out of the seat and finish my drink, setting the glass down with a clink. “Stealing from one Quinate for another? That’s got to be worth more.”
“You should have thought of that before your pitiful attempt at negotiating.”
“Hendrick is dangerous.”
“Maybe. To you. Then again…” His gaze slides over my dress and he steps up, lifting the skirt up to my panties, then he drops it and looks at my throat. “Maybe you like it that way.”
I narrow my eyes, reach for the bottle, and pour the liquor in straight. “Touch me again and I’ll break your bones.”
“You can try.”
“I don’t have family for you to destroy,” I say. “You don’t scare me.”
He raises a brow. “I should. You have friends, though. Because you didn’t mention them. Do you have the fucking necklace or do you want me to fuck you?”
“You’re not fucking me.”
He steps away. “So you’ve got the goods. Come with me.”
Jac doesn’t look back as we go up to his study. I half expect him to sit like some kind of hot Bond villain behind the desk, but he flops down on the sofa, and I sit on the chair opposite and cross my legs.
His eyes are hot and hungry on the line of my thigh as I dig into the secret compartment of this new bag. My stomach flips and flutters, and honestly, I don’t know if it’s him or the jewels I pull out, still wrapped, that have me all turned on, or both.
