Page 70 of Wicked Little Lies

“Cunt, Cat. Say cunt.”

“My cunt.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” I slide in two, and soon, I’m slowly pumping three fingers in her. Two in her cunt, one in her ass, and she’s just tight and perfect everywhere.

I fucking love how much she loves sex, loves being touched, manhandled, used roughly. She’s just a fucking filthy goddess.

“As for you and Jac at my place? I don’t think you did. Maybe I’m wrong.” I almost add I don’t care, but I do.

Instead, I keep fucking her with my fingers. We could get caught any moment and that only makes this hotter, better. Her soft moans are the kind of music a man can fuck to, and she starts to really push back, her cunt starting to ripple, and I pull out of her.

“A little edge to keep you sharp.”

Then I turn and give her a glance as she straightens up, tries to pull herself together. It’s an image that burns into me deep, the way I can shatter her with a touch, how it costs to pull herself back from my edge.

She looks at me. “What?”

“Whatever the fuck you do, I’ll have a man watching you. Or take Jac. He’ll keep you safe.”

“You don’t need to fucking lecture me, Agnossio, I know how to entertain MG.”

The hate inside me is flat, cold, real. “Keep safe, asshole. Not entertain.”

“Can’t help it if she loves the—”

“Don’t say the Jac fuck-stick. I mean, Jesus, man.”

Jac shrugs and looks phenomenally bored, so much so that I know he’s scanning the place, keeping an eye on everyone, looking for trouble.

He leans back on the corner of the bar, eye-fucking a couple of pretty things who don’t know which of us to look at. They’re totally Jac-types. But he’s really not paying them attention. The old rich fucks with them are, and they move them away from us.

It doesn’t interest me. I wait until the woman getting some drinks next to us leaves.

“I’m still looking into some leads. But so far…” I sigh. I don’t need to finish it. “Did you get a good look at the fuck who put hands on Magdalena?”

“No. But he’s a for hire. I fucking hate it when these fuckwits do that.”

I get it, I do. Because none of the Quinate does that. Then again, we don’t have to remain anonymous or try to. Our power is far reaching, deadly. “Yeah, well, when you’re up to no good against people like us…” I stop. “Actually, you don’t go against people like us.”

“Not without a death wish.”

“I don’t like it either.” He takes a swallow of his bourbon. “Still think it’s fucking Kincaid.”

“We’ll see.”

He doesn’t look at me. “Who else could it be? We both know he wants a seat at the table.”

“And he won’t get one. It’s not like their fucking prizes. These are family seats. A divide of power. The balance that keeps everything fair. And even if there was a seat…”

“Thing is, Agnossio, we’re the last of our families.”

I rub a hand over my brow. I know Cat came back in, but she’s got an unnerving ability to vanish when she chooses. Right now, I’m mulling Jac’s words.

This isn’t like he’s telling me something I don’t know. And he’s not being stupid by pretending it’s that cut and dry. There are people in line if something were to happen. And none ofthose people are out to take us down. They’re vetted. Looked after, approved.

But that’s not known. Shit, most of what happens behind closed doors with the Quinate isn’t known.

“I get your point. I get most don’t know how our system works. But it’s still taking on the Quinate. You really think someone might believe they can buy their way in?”

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