Marcus. In Jillianâs current state of insanity, that might seem like foreplay. She did not need more foreplay. She might jump him.
âDid you and Ronnie with an i e have fun tonight?â she asked in a syrupy tone. âShe seemed like such a nice girl.â
âJealous?â
âPlease. Youâre such aââ egotistical pig, I can see why youâd think so ââ nice boy for helping her with her obvious self-esteem issues and being nice to her. Yep, we women love it when men are nice to us.â
âSo what are you?â he asked, confusing her.
âExcuse me?â
âYou arenât really a cock hater, since youâre lying about being turned on right now. Are you a junkie or a teaser?â
âYouâll never know,â she gritted out.
âGreat. A teaser.â He sighed. âWhat a pity.â
Her blood boiled. âThis conversation is boring and so are you. Next youâll be asking me about the weather forecast. Goodbye.â
âWait,â he said in a rush. âDonât hang up. I have to tell you something.â
She paused, stupidly happy that he wanted to keep her on the line. âWhat?â
âDouble or nothing, remember? You didnât dance with me. Donât forget to bring my two hundred dollars to the office tomorrow,â he said. âLike you, I donât take checks.â Click.
Openmouthed, she stared at the phone. Then, scowling, she pressed *69. Marcus answered right away. âI won the first bet and you owed me one hundred dollars,â she said. âYou won the second, so you just keep your money. I owe you nothing. If you need me to use Happy the sock puppet and explain it in simpler language, just let me know.â Click.
A second later, her phone rang. âWhat?â
His drugging laughter caressed her ear. âWe arenât playing the American way, baby. Weâre playing British. The right way. You owe me two hundred dollars.â Click.
Again she found herself staring at the phone. Unethical, thatâs what he was. No way the British rules for gambling were different than the American rules; heâd made that up.
The phone rang again a second later and Jillian grinned. She was tempted to let it ring all night, but found herself eager for round four. She pressed talk and said, âDonât ever hang up on me again or Iâllââ stab you in the heart ââbake you chocolate-chip cookies and bring them to you in a pretty, decorative basket.â There. That was sweet. Well, sweet as long as it wasnât Jillianâs mom doing the bakingâ¦but that didnât bear thinking about right now. âNow admit it. I donât owe you a cent.â
âWhat are you talking about? I didnât hang up on you, and I know you donât owe me any money. And why are you threatening me with chocolate-chip cookies? Whatâd I ever do to you?â her sister, Brittany, said. Without waiting for Jillianâs response, she added, âListen, Mom just called me. Sheâs having one of her breakdowns.â
âWhat? Why?â Suddenly serious, Jillian jolted upright. Dark curls cascaded down her temples and back.
âSheâs decided to try the dating scene.â
âNo, no, no,â Jillian groaned. âWhy would she put herself through that again? Why would she put us through that again?â
âBecause she has needs, â Brittany said, her tone dripping with disgust.
âGross. Donât ever, ever, ever say that to me.â
âHey, Iâm just repeating what she told me.â
âWell, donât.â
Brittany sighed, loud and long and frustrated. âWhat are we going to do? Weââ Pause. âApple, Cherry, what are you doing up? Itâs way past your bedtime.â
Jillian heard giggling and pictured her ten-year-old twin nieces running around Brittanyâs bedroom. They might look like
Aubrianna Hunter
B.C.CHASE
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Michael Nicholson
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Simon Brown
Jean Plaidy
Jennifer Erin Valent
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