Precious Gems - Sierra Hill Page 0,33

them will end up sleeping with her tonight.

“You ready, little girl?” Faron asks and I note the double-entendre laced within the statement.

Because while the job I’m here to do tonight is not without some danger, and there is the element of risk ratcheting up my excitement, it’s nothing compared to the level of excitement for what’s to come afterwards.

When Faron will reward me for a job well done.

And I’ll give him a piece of myself I’ve saved all this time just for him.

“Oh, my goodness, I am such a clumsy mess. Look at what I’ve done!”

The drink I accidentally spill on Casper’s tux coat drips down his lapel, as his face turns from an angry scowl to sly wolf the moment he turns to see who bumped him. I’d been walking by as he spoke to a party guest, and lost my balance, flinging my drink in his direction.

I awkwardly sway on my heels, looking like I’m about to do a face plant, and catch his arm in my death grip. He takes the bait, gallantly reaching to save me and throws a hand around my waist. I giggle for good measure.

“There now, honey. You just had a little misstep. No harm, no foul. No sense for a beautiful woman like yourself to cry over spilt milk.”

Casper clicks his tongue, his hand squeezing my side, scaling my waist until it’s planted right underneath my right breast. How convenient of him.

“But it’s such a waste of good champagne. Whoever the host is tonight, they did such a perfect job organizing such a beautiful party. The food was exquisite and the beverages, ooh la la. I may have had a few too many. But I wish I could properly thank the host for such a lovely party. I’m having so much fun.”

I let my knee buckle, my body collapsing into him, my chest now smashed up against his torso and groin. He grows thick and hard underneath, and it takes everything in me not to gag.

“Well, you are a lucky girl, Mademoiselle…” He’s looking for my name.

“Madeleine,” I respond wide-eyed with a breathy smile. “Like the little shell cakes.”

Casper rumbles with laughter, as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“Ah, what do you know. Those are my favorite French pastries. I can’t get enough of eating Madeleines. So petite and deliciously sweet and moist.” He licks his chops obnoxiously, so obviously proud of his crude comment cleverly disguised as an innocent remark.

I have him right where I want him.

At this point, the two men he’d been talking to have wandered off, leaving Casper’s undivided attention on me. I smile up at him biting down on my lip like an ingenue, my hands touching and caressing his torso as if I’m so enamored with him, I can’t help myself.

But instead, I’m search of his wallet and key card.

“And who are you? Do you know the host?”

He chuckles. “Casper Foquette. Your drenched party host at your service.”

My hand runs over his front lapel, the dampness from the champagne already seeping in, as I skim down the front and near his pants pocket. I cringe inwardly as my hand brushes over his erection but find what I’m looking for despite the interfering appendage.

I peer up into his eyes, flashing demure baby-doll blues. “Casper, I’m the world’s worst guest. I really soaked you with my drink. Can I get something to clean you up?”

His response is the darkening of his eyes, and a grin that spells out his love for sex with young women.

“Maybe you are right, Madeleine. Perhaps I should go clean up. Would you like to help me? Somewhere more private?”

Bingo.

This couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. I give the signal to Faron, who stands on the opposite side of the room, who then motions to Rome and West from their positions.

With the switch of my purse from one shoulder to the next, I’ve signaled to them all that I have the card in my possession and the fun can begin.

Sliding my arm inside Casper’s tucked elbow, he escorts me through the crowded room, nodding his head to partiers and guests, all while his other arm is slung low around my waist and he gropes my ass.

Just as we near the bar area, heading toward what I presume to be his personal living quarters, Faron comes in hot, approaching me with the scariest scowl I’ve ever seen, his jealous rage almost a real entity.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with my