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Spread his entrails on the floor.
I blink rapidly and text the asshole back because this time there’s a number. It’s…I don’t even know the area code; it’s not Delacroix city. But I really don’t care.
The first piece is being evaluated. Cool your jets and if you want this to move quickly, send me the rest so I know what to get. “You fucking fuck.”
The next text comes in. This picture comes with a caption:now.
“Fucker!”
Get off my ass, you’ll get what you want. If you want it quickly, then get me the rest of the pieces in photographic form.
There’s nothing else. Just that second picture.
What the fuck, asshole?I shoot the text to Hendrick. Then I call, and I almost throw my phone when it goes straight to voicemail.
I can’t get hold of him, but as I look at the second photo, I turn my ire to Jac.
Jac who’s got his arm around a gorgeous little brunette, looking very, very cozy, very interested and very much about to fuck her.
I know the exclusive bar in New Town he’s at. It’s one of those uber trendy places with food and insanely expensive cocktails and dark corners for making out.
If I can’t destroy Hendrick, I’ll destroy Jac. Confront him because as I head to the bathroom to get ready, I’m sick of them both. One claiming he loves me, the other claiming that I’m his.
Fuck them.
Fuck them both.
To hell and back.
FOURTEEN
JAC
This having a fucking conscience thing isn’t fun. At all.
Because while working the Jac magic on Bianca whatever the fuck her name is—something I need to do to make my upcoming move work—I can’t stop returning to MG.
Last night in the back of the limo was one of the hottest, filthiest things I’ve done. I’ve done way worse to women. Women who are willing, who agree to take whatever I had out to them.
But this was MG.
And I was both beyond fucking turned on by her thinking Carlos’s big hands might be on her tits, or the idea of him watching me eat her and fuck her. I didn’t because MG never gave permission for that, and I don’t even want Hendrick near her, let alone anyone else. And, to my own surprise, the thought of Carlos touching and watching pissed me the fuck off.
Yeah, I know. It’s sick in the head territory, being annoyed when I do this a lot. The women agree to anything, but…even if MG had, there’s no fucking way.
As it is, I might have gone too far. But she never used her word.
If she had…
For the first time in my fucking life, I’d have stopped.
There are lines and then there are lines.
She came. Oh man, did she fucking come. I thought she was going to rip my dick off with the way she came on it.
Suddenly, I’m aware Bianca’s talking to me. She places her hand on mine, rubbing over the back of it, and then the rings on my fingers. I arch a brow and look at her.
She lifts her hand, places it next to mine, and then takes a sip of her horrendous-looking cocktail, full of froth and artisanal curlicues of whatever the fuck is in there. I’m aware I’m being a total prick, but hey, I also just dropped a cool seven million on her and the diamond bracelet adorning her wrist is new, modern, gorgeous and her style.
