Page 30 of Wicked Little Lies

“And that before—”

“Fucking you?” His smile is slow, and my knees grow weak. “Necessity?”

“A lot of necessity.”

“Sometimes,” he says, fucking me harder, rubbing my G-spot, making me moan, “it’s necessary.”

“Why?” The word slips free.

He frowns. Those fingers working me, and though I’m still obscenely sensitive, the heat and need builds. “Why what?”

“Rescue me?”

Jac pulls away, grabs a fresh towel, and sucks his fingers. Then he washes his hands and tosses the towel to the floor.

“I want to kill you, MG. Dismember you, bury you from here to New York, and they’ll never find you. But…” He looks at himself in the mirror, straightening his tie, smoothing his waistcoat. “But I also don’t want anything to happen to you. I fucking bought those earrings. I said sorry. And I guess I’m conflicted. I want to hurt you, but I won’t.”

“Is this your very fucked up way of telling me you care?”

“If you want to put it that way. Yes.”

Before I can say anything else, the lift dings and Hendrick comes into the bathroom. His face is hard, blank, utterly gorgeous. “Come on. Magdalena, Jac, it’s time for a small road trip.”

SIX

JAC

I’m not fucking sure what I expect from Hendrick’s little road trip, but a tour around Delacroix City in the back of a very fancy limo isn’t it.

This is my style, not his.

But in the back of the upscale party limo, as I insist on calling it, mainly to piss the fuck out of Hendrick, I can see why he has it.

A woman’s there. She’s neat, her brown hair tied back; the type I’d never fuck but I’d imagine him doing because her boring air’s like his. She’s ignoring me. Her focus is on MG and whatever the fuck her little bag of tricks is.

She’s clearly checking out MG’s arm and her bangle, and I quickly lose interest.

I pay people to know this shit, to take care of business. And…

Fuck.

My head suddenly fills up with MG and banging her.

I’m not fucking sure what happened up in that hotel suite. Sizzling hot. Wild. Darkly erotic. I know all that. I mean the heat and erotic energy of the threesome. If you can call it that. And the third being Hendrick.

It’s not going to happen again, me stepping up and fucking her mouth while he eats her out, although there’s a certain deliciousness of domination in that. And watching him with her, fucking her is something I’d consider doing again.

But beyond that?

We didn’t discuss it when she came that final time and passed out. I don’t think either of us want to go there. Not with each other. The hate and old tangled shit’s there. Thick. Built to last.

My purpose for years has been his demise. I’m not going to forget what he is and how I feel about him overnight, which is hot hate. I’m not about to get soft and fluffy and set up house to share a woman with my mortal enemy.

Even if that woman’s MG fucking Rossi, the hottest thing I’ve ever been balls deep in.

And even if I wanted to, he’s not going to want that, either.

He hates me right back, in that cold, measured Agnossio way.

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