papers.
“Don’t look at him,” Bryce growled as his hand wrapped around her thigh. “Don’t you dare let those
beautiful eyes rest on him, not when it’s me you want.” His palm found her ass, and he rubbed her back
and forth with his warm hand, his fingers trailing along the lace edging of her panties. He found the
wetness through the silk and rubbed it with his fingertips. “I’m dying to see your ass in these panties,
Jenna. All I need to need to know is are they black or white?”
“Pink and black,” she said breathlessly.
His breath hitched again. “Good and bad, huh, Jenna? Well, baby, that’s all I want to see you wearing as
I lay you out on that table and feast on you. What a hot dish you’ll be, spread out for me. I want you to
keep the stockings and garters on. And the panties,” he whispered against her neck. “I’ll just shove those
aside while I taste that pussy of yours. You want that, Jenna, me going down on you?”
Please, please, please,she nearly begged out loud before she stopped herself. Bryce always had it so
easy with women. And now he expected her to be just as easy a conquest as the others. She’d gone
from ticked off to melting in a span of four minutes. Giving in to what he wanted would be too telling.
He’d know that he could manipulate her with sex. That she was ruled by her body and her need for him.
Make him work for it. Be the playgirl to his playboy.Rachel’s words came back to Jenna, and she
straightened, pulling his hand out from beneath her skirt.
“I’m not sure what you thought last night was about,” she murmured, channeling her inner Rachel as she
turned around and faced him, “but I think you should know that I’m not looking for anything . . . steady.”
“What?”
“A casual bit of sex, that’s good, but I’m not looking for anything more than that.”
“Excuse me?”
His frown was something truly frightening. Jenna didn’t think she’d ever seen Bryce looking so fearsome
and she was kind of confused by his anger. “Last night, it was fun and everything, but . . . you know . . .
,” she said, trailing off.
“Hey, Jenna, I got the file opened. You ready to talk shop yet?” James asked.
“Be right there,” she called to James before looking once more at Bryce. “Last night was nice. But I think
we both know that doing that again would be a mistake. We’re better as friends.”
Nice?Last night wasnice ?
What the fuck?
Bryce fought the urge to stalk into Jenna’s living room and haul her up from the couch and show her just
how nice fucking her could be.
Jesus, he was losing it. What the hell was going on here? Everything he had ever thought, ever known,
about Jenna McCabe had suddenly been turned upside down in less than twenty-four hours.
Bryce glanced into the living room and saw that Jenna had sat down on the couch next to what’s-his-face
and was sipping away at a drink that dickhead had made for her.
Bryce felt his mouth turn into a snarl. Every sip was a fricking invitation to sex, and Jimbo wasn’t missing
a beat. When James’ gaze strayed to the little gap between the buttons on Jenna’s blouse, Bryce wanted
to hurl himself onto the couch and drag the asshole to the ground.
Going over files, his ass. James was here to go over something totally different, mainly Jenna’s curvy
body.
And Jenna looked . . . what? Receptive?
Fuming at the stove, Bryce watched the two of them together. James was everything Bryce was not.
From the artfully coiffed tips of his hair—which, Bryce thought savagely, were frosted—to the toes of his
expensive Italian leather loafers, James was the very image of a young, successful businessman. A fucking
glossy-magazine image for the metrosexual man women seemed to adore these days.
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Hell, even his nails were perfectly manicured, and Bryce would bet his left nut that James had a
“Don’t look at him,” Bryce growled as his hand wrapped around her thigh. “Don’t you dare let those
beautiful eyes rest on him, not when it’s me you want.” His palm found her ass, and he rubbed her back
and forth with his warm hand, his fingers trailing along the lace edging of her panties. He found the
wetness through the silk and rubbed it with his fingertips. “I’m dying to see your ass in these panties,
Jenna. All I need to need to know is are they black or white?”
“Pink and black,” she said breathlessly.
His breath hitched again. “Good and bad, huh, Jenna? Well, baby, that’s all I want to see you wearing as
I lay you out on that table and feast on you. What a hot dish you’ll be, spread out for me. I want you to
keep the stockings and garters on. And the panties,” he whispered against her neck. “I’ll just shove those
aside while I taste that pussy of yours. You want that, Jenna, me going down on you?”
Please, please, please,she nearly begged out loud before she stopped herself. Bryce always had it so
easy with women. And now he expected her to be just as easy a conquest as the others. She’d gone
from ticked off to melting in a span of four minutes. Giving in to what he wanted would be too telling.
He’d know that he could manipulate her with sex. That she was ruled by her body and her need for him.
Make him work for it. Be the playgirl to his playboy.Rachel’s words came back to Jenna, and she
straightened, pulling his hand out from beneath her skirt.
“I’m not sure what you thought last night was about,” she murmured, channeling her inner Rachel as she
turned around and faced him, “but I think you should know that I’m not looking for anything . . . steady.”
“What?”
“A casual bit of sex, that’s good, but I’m not looking for anything more than that.”
“Excuse me?”
His frown was something truly frightening. Jenna didn’t think she’d ever seen Bryce looking so fearsome
and she was kind of confused by his anger. “Last night, it was fun and everything, but . . . you know . . .
,” she said, trailing off.
“Hey, Jenna, I got the file opened. You ready to talk shop yet?” James asked.
“Be right there,” she called to James before looking once more at Bryce. “Last night was nice. But I think
we both know that doing that again would be a mistake. We’re better as friends.”
Nice?Last night wasnice ?
What the fuck?
Bryce fought the urge to stalk into Jenna’s living room and haul her up from the couch and show her just
how nice fucking her could be.
Jesus, he was losing it. What the hell was going on here? Everything he had ever thought, ever known,
about Jenna McCabe had suddenly been turned upside down in less than twenty-four hours.
Bryce glanced into the living room and saw that Jenna had sat down on the couch next to what’s-his-face
and was sipping away at a drink that dickhead had made for her.
Bryce felt his mouth turn into a snarl. Every sip was a fricking invitation to sex, and Jimbo wasn’t missing
a beat. When James’ gaze strayed to the little gap between the buttons on Jenna’s blouse, Bryce wanted
to hurl himself onto the couch and drag the asshole to the ground.
Going over files, his ass. James was here to go over something totally different, mainly Jenna’s curvy
body.
And Jenna looked . . . what? Receptive?
Fuming at the stove, Bryce watched the two of them together. James was everything Bryce was not.
From the artfully coiffed tips of his hair—which, Bryce thought savagely, were frosted—to the toes of his
expensive Italian leather loafers, James was the very image of a young, successful businessman. A fucking
glossy-magazine image for the metrosexual man women seemed to adore these days.
Page 38
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Hell, even his nails were perfectly manicured, and Bryce would bet his left nut that James had a
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