Sinful Deception (Covert Affairs Book 3) by Skye Jordan Page B

the cash. They’ll dump you as soon as you can’t or don’t want to pay.”
    Marcus was plenty aware of the fact that this was a temporary infatuation. And he wasn’t about to try to explain why he thought Tova was different. “I’m a big boy, Trig. I can handle it.”
    TOVA: Genie or French Maid?
     
    MARCUS: Ooo, tough one. Your call.
     
    TOVA: Can I send you pictures of some other pretty things or will you get in trouble?
     
    MARCUS: This is my personal cell. Send.
     
    TOVA: Which of these do you want me to wear for you tonight during the private preview?
     
    “Whoa.” He laughed the word, a thrill burning through him.
    MARCUS: A private preview? If you’re serious, baby, you just made my year.
     
    “Are you sexting?” Trigger asked before he chugged water. “I didn’t know they did that.”
    “She’s asking me what I want her to wear tonight when she dances for me.”
    “What do you mean, dances?”
    “Pole dancing.”
    Trigger’s water bottle hit the bed of the truck. “She’s pole dancing for you? None of the chicks I chat with do that.”
    Marcus’s phone chimed, and he picked it up to find a picture of Tova in a black teddy with matching garters. When he saw the selfie she’d taken in the dressing room of a local Playhouse store, his mind fell apart, just disintegrated. Her hair was down, her smile seductive and sweet at the same time.
    “Holy shit.” Trigger said over Marcus’s shoulder. “ That’s her? ”
    Marcus turned his phone facedown and glanced at his teammate. “Do you mind?”
    “Hell, yes, I mind. Let me see.”
    His phone chimed again, and Trigger smacked Marcus’s arm. “Come on.”
    Marcus sighed and glanced at his phone. This time, Tova wore something in hot, hot pink. The top fit like a bikini, and was sequined. The length of the bodice that fell to her hips was sheer netting, hemmed in a sequined ruffle, which Tova held up, providing a peek at a matching sequined thong.
    “She’s fucking smokin’ .” Trigger prodded with too much excitement. “Enlarge it.”
    Marcus pocketed his phone and stood from the truck. “No. Go find your own girl. She’s mine.”
    “Dude, you know she’s not yours, right? You know she’s getting a hundred other guys off every night.”
    “Of course I know. That’s not what I meant.”
    The thought of Tova talking dirty to other men, other men jerking off to her voice and words… It didn’t particularly bother him. He felt the sting of envy now and then, like when Trigger put it into clear perspective, but he was realistic. This was a job for her. Which was fine. Marcus wasn’t looking for much more. He was just playing this one day at a time.
    His phone chimed again, and he smiled—this was a very good day, and he couldn’t wait for it to get even better.
    This time she wore a white bra, white thong, and feathered wings.
    MARCUS: You’re frying what little gray matter I’ve got. You can’t seriously make me choose between those.
     
    TOVA: Wait. I still have half a dozen more to try.
     
    “Good Lord,” he muttered, grinning.
    The radio in the truck squawked, and the dispatcher reported a group sighting three miles northwest of their location. Trigger got on the radio and responded.
    MARCUS: I’ve got a call, baby. Gotta go.
     
    TOVA: I like the way you call me baby. Stay safe. Talk tonight.
     
    MARCUS: You bet your sweet ass.
    * * * * *
    She could totally do this.
    The pole dancing moves were cake, and beyond that, they felt good, stretching tight and underused muscles.
    Tova spun around the upper end of the pole and let the momentum drag her to the floor spinning. And smiling. This was damn fun . She’d do it even if she didn’t get paid for it.
    And her computer had been pinging like crazy with men wanting to chat since she’d turned it on to wait for Marcus. All she was doing was practicing, and men already seemed rabid, which gave her hope they’d also pay to watch her videos once she’d had time to create