Dear God, he was good. Jacee was powerless but to writhe beneath him as he worked on her. Of course, she wasn't surprised-- he'd probably done this a million times. She felt an unfamiliar surge of jealousy, followed by a vindictive sort of possessiveness. Alcohol and lust were an apparently creative pair, as Jacee had now made up her mind to entrance this man to the point where he wouldn't even be able to look at another woman. She was about to start putting her plan into action when the intercom buzzed to life.<br/><br/>"Are you expecting visitors?"<br/>Jacee raised an eyebrow, "Do I bloody<span style="font-style: italic">look</span>like I'm expecting visitors?" She listened to the woman speak, then turned her gaze back to the man between her legs, "Go on. Take care of whatever you need to take care of, move your ship, or whatever. After that, return here; I have a counteroffer."