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Someone like Jeannie suits those needs down to the ground.
Hopefully between the game and Jeannie, I’ll learn something to point me toward whoever the fuck is trying to pull strings.
I turn her and slide my hand down over her bare and fucking perfect ass. “Let’s get this party started.”
THIRTEEN
MAGDALENA
Jac leans against his limo, foot up against the door, a gorgeous woman draped in diamonds seeming to take up all his attention.
Seeming being the word.
Because before that uncomfortable bite of jealousy returns—the same one I had sink its teeth into me in the garden with Hendrick—he sees me and it’s like a livewire snapping on.
The woman’s dismissed without a word, and his gaze devours me, inside out.
And me? I barely note the old, fat guy who comes up to lead the woman away.
Jac’s gaze sends a throb of need through me, and I approach him. I’m not sure what I expect when I get there, breathing in his lavender and leather honeyed scent. A word, a touch?
I get nothing.
He merely steps aside, opens the door, and I get in. Jac follows, shutting the door with a click and then, with his gaze still on me, holds out his hand.
I frown. “What?”
“About twenty-five minutes ago, after Hendrick left with that hot piece Fiona…” His mouth turns up in a lazy, nasty Jac smile. “You. Stole. My. Phone. Hand it fucking over.”
“It’s locked.”
Christ, am I slipping? Did he notice the moment I took it? But the expression on his face, beneath that nasty, pure Jac smile, is one of grudging respect. I think he only noticed when he went to use it.
“And that stopped you?” he asks.
I’m not about to tell him of how I can work out the passcodes from how he’s used it. But… “The only phone I had with me was the fucking burner. I needed a way—”
“Are you going to make me get the phone? That your fucking little plan, MG?” His caramel butter voice holds all kinds of dark, erotic intentions.
A shiver patters down my spine. “What are you going to do if I say yes?”
“Wrong question, pretty cunt. Ask what I’m going to do if you say no.”
“Jac…” His voice slides out on a moan, and the smile turns even more filthy, smug.
“Say my name like you want my cock so desperately, you’ll do anything to get it.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Flirting.”
The full-on sleaze slides out in his smile, and he slips a hand up my thigh. “I don’t fucking flirt, MG.”
He grabs me. He’s fast, and I don’t expect it. Jac has my thighs parted and the dress undone, because he’s somehow pulled the side zip down without even me noticing.
To say I’m impressed is an understatement.
