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I know women.
“I’d love to see your tattoos, Jac,” she says, doe-eyed over the rim of the martini glass. “And your piercing.”
Who the fuck’s talking? It’s not like no one knows, but I wasn’t aware my personal decorations were talk of the fucking town. I might be a whore, but I’m one with fucking standards. I don’t fuck anything. I pick and choose.
Though, yeah, okay, I’d definitely do Bianca. If MG didn’t exist. If I didn’t have business with her boringly jealous fiancé who’s about fifty. And clearly not paying her enough attention.
Or maybe she rethought her life choices and figured she should give me a ride before settling down.
I can see my appeal.
But I’m not interested in her, not really, and I know her mother. Plus, I have business with her and also with her fiancé. So even if I was interested, I’d…yeah, I wouldn’t.
“How’s Philip?”
Her eyes narrow a little. “Busy.”
There’s a tiny pout that appears on her mouth that’s made for dick. These rich girl’s nearly always have easy access cunt. But Ithink with her, for all her offers and all-star access passes to that cunt, she might love her man. She isn’t in need of his wallet.
But men like Philip forget about the attention gorgeous young things need.
I’m feeling a little generous, so I help her out.
“Tell him I gifted you that,” I say, nodding at her wrist, “and you think I’m interested, but it’s your call on who gets to sample your wares, not mine. Flash your ring he gave you at him and tell him you took my gift but turned me down.”
She frowns.
“Jac…you have deals with him, I don’t want to screw that up.”
“And fucking me wouldn’t?”
She has the grace to blush. “I wasn’t going to tell him. I don’t normally cheat, I just—” Bianca breathes out.
“Feel neglected?”
She nods.
“Your man knows me,” I say as gently as I can be bothered to be, “and he knows how gorgeous you are. You’ll be showing your loyalty, my interest, and it’ll make him up his fucking game. He needs my business more than the other way around. Trust me.”
“Okay.”
We chat a little more, but I got what I came for so I’m only half in the game. I sit back, order some food, and another drink.
Bianca has a drink but doesn’t eat. She’s in the middle of telling me about fucking flowers—I don’t know why—when a flash of red catches my attention.
Red, slinky dress, red heels, black bag and gleaming blonde hair tumbling free. And dark blood red lips.
MG knows how to make an entrance and grab a man by the balls.
“Bianca,” I say watching as MG walks over. Every single man in the damn bar’s attention on her. “Go see Philip.”
She half turns. “Oh. Well.” Bianca rises, slides a hand down my tie, and whispers. “Consider this a thank you.” And she kisses me on the cheek, low, near my mouth.
I can’t hide the grin as she saunters past MG.
Philip might not know what he has, but in that one moment, Bianca proved herself far more interesting than I gave her credit for.
But then I dismiss her because MG pulls out a chair and sits, crossing long legs encased in fine silk, the hint of the lace tops of the stockings showing as she does so, and I’m immediately rock fucking hard in my pants.
