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“That coat is something I want back.”
Jac Miller’s voice does things to a woman. Even if he was spewing out threats and nasty insults, I get wet from that voice.
Caramel butter.
And his nemesis makes me wet with that voice of velvet sandpaper.
Funny, Hendrick has a voice that fits the decadent nastiness of Jac. And Jac’s fits Hendrick’s elegant form of depravity down to the ground.
Or maybe I’m too sober and too sexed up to think straight.
I take a deep drink.
“Expenses.”
“Fuck expenses,” he says. “You also took the jewels.”
“I’m going to get them evaluated.”
“I told you,” he says, as something moans in the background and my heart squeezes. Jesus, he’s fucking someone? “Fake.”
Then I hear two voices: his…mine… Oh. My. Fucking. God.
“Did you record us?”
“Call it… memory preservation.” He laughs. “Or potential tools to keep you in line.”
“Blackmail.”
There’s a click as a message comes through.
Me. Being fucked by Jac. It’s not a quality shot. But it’s me, him pounding into me. This picture is shit, but he no doubt has better ones, and of course, the actual video.
“You’re a fucking asshole.” I take a very long drink, my hand shaking.
“Got it all on tape. I like to watch. So I record my adventures.” The moans and passionate, hate-filled words filter in, along with the slap of flesh against flesh. “This might become one of my favorites. Fuck, when you push your ass or cunt at me for more, it’s breathtaking. I’m hard watching it.”
“You’re God’s gift to perverts.”
He laughs. “Stick your hand in your panties. I’m betting you’re wet. Does that make you the pervert?”
“Why are you calling me? Last I remember you forced yourself on me, came, and told me to get out.”
Jac doesn’t speak for a while, then he says, “Because we’re not done, MG. Not until I have my necklace. I’m paying you, and I own you until this job’s done.”
“And you forcing me into fucking you?”
“You really think I forced you?”
I swallow, clench my hand on the phone. “I didn’t come to your place for sex, Jac.”
“And yet…”
“I’m not sleeping with you again, and Jac?” I take another big drink. “I’m not working for Hendrick.”
“But you fucked him.”
“Yes,” I say. “I fucked him and loved every moment. But I’m not working for him.”
