Grand Theft N.Y.E.

by Katrina Jackson

  “What’s the deal?” she spat at Robert, still pacing.

  “Sit,” he said.

  “I don’t want to sit. Tell me the damn deal so I can turn you down, you can call the police and we can both move on with our lives.”

  “Is that what you want, Just Cleo?”

  The question stopped her in her tracks. She turned to him with a frown. While she’d struggled not to blow her top and her team was scrambling to figure out what they’d gotten themselves into, Robert was still sitting calmly in his chair, his head resting against one of his fists, his eyes on her.

  She watched him watch her. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small piece of dark fabric. Cleo’s mouth fell open, knowing in her gut what it was.

  “Sit,” he said again. His voice was deeper than it had been just a second ago. Harder. And it made her wetter. It made her mouth dry. It made her want to do things she shouldn’t, like call him Mr. Shimizu again. But she couldn’t do that, so she sat back in her chair, this time with a stiff back and her arms crossed over her chest.

  “I want to know what you know,” he said calmly, his thumb stroking the fabric of her underwear.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means, I threw this party to get you here, but not so I can turn you in. I want you to tell me how you planned to work a party like this and all the other ways you might run a con here. I want to know what you know so I can do my job better.”

  Cleo frowned at him. She hadn’t spent six months secretly hoping for a job offer. This wasn’t what she wanted. But if it got her out of this mess — and got Alex as far away from danger as possible — she had to at least entertain it. “So hypothetically, I tell you how to prepare your henchmen against a criminal mastermind — which I’m not, just in case we’re being recorded,” Robert smiled and nodded, “and then you just let me go?”

  Something… hot flashed behind his eyes. “Come here?”

  “Sit. Come. Man, I’m not a dog,” she said.

  He frowned quickly and leaned forward, her underwear clutched in his fist. “You’re not. And that’s not how I want to make you feel,” he said, his deep voice caressing her skin.

  Cleo’s nipples hardened painfully. “How do you want to make me feel?” she asked before she could stop herself. She watched as Robert uncrossed his legs and spread them obscenely, his erection obvious and mouthwatering.

  “Come here and I’ll show you.”

  She didn’t think, and that was a bad sign. Cleo needed to figure out a way to get out of here, but that didn’t matter when Robert looked at her like he was and spoke to her like he had and the way he’d made her feel six months ago. She stood from her chair, walked around the coffee table and stopped in between his spread legs.

  As soon as she was within arm’s reach, Robert sat up straight and placed his bare hands just behind her knees.

  Cleo gasped. She couldn’t have stopped the exhalation of breath even if she’d tried, because it wasn’t just about this one touch. Robert’s hands landing softly on her most sensitive patch of skin broke the seal on six months of desperation. Six months of wondering where he was, what he was doing, and if he was thinking about her. Six months of missing him; of wanting him to touch her in just this way and so many others.

  His eyes were trained on her face, watching her eyes widen, tracking her tongue as she licked her heavily painted lips. His fingers skimmed up the back of her legs, under the hem of her dress and then back again, feather light.

  She twitched at that touch. “Is that my thong?” she asked, needing to be sure.

  “It is,” he said, “I’ve kept it with me ever since you left.” He sat back in his chair, leaving his lap open in invitation for her.

  Cleo didn’t hesitate to hike up her dress — he grunted — and straddle his legs.

  Robert pulled her fully into his lap, settling her ass over his erection. They both moaned at that contact.

  “I need a moment,” she said, ripping her earpiece from her ear.

  Robert lifted an eyebrow. “Your crew?”

  “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  He smiled. “You didn’t answer my other question.”

  “Which question was that? There’s been a few.”

  “Do you want us to just walk away from each other and go on with our lives?”

  “Are you offering something different?” she asked, but she was too scared to hear the answer so she decided to distract him. Cleo ran her hand between his legs, palmed his erection, and leaned down to kiss him quickly.

  Or at least she’d planned to distract him.

  Robert’s hands moved to her wrist and her neck.

  Cleo ground her sex against his dick and groaned at his tight hold on her again.

  He moved her hand from his erection and placed it over his heart. She opened her palm and felt his heartbeat pounding against his chest. Her eyes flew to his.

  “I spent six months trying to find you; I think it’s clear that there’s more.”

  “I’m listening,” she whispered.

  “You ran away,” he said.

  “That’s not an offer.”

  “Stay with me.”

  Cleo licked her lips and ground against his dick again. “Is that an offer or a command?”

  Robert smiled. “Can I command you to stay? Is that a thing you’d do?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I want you to stay with me,” he said, but didn’t command. Cleo found that frustrating, but she wasn’t sure exactly why.

  “Is that the deal? I agree to stay with you and then you don’t call the cops?”

  “No. You help me tie up cracks in my crew and I forget everything I’ve learned about your… profession in the past few months. But you decide where you go after that. If you go.”

  “My team,” she said.

  “Your team, if you have one, isn’t my concern. Just you,” he whispered, tightening his hold on the back of her neck and pulling her face down to his. “You said it the night we met. Just Cleo. I only want you.”

  Robert had spent months dreaming of this moment. Of Cleo’s tongue in his mouth and his hand crawling up her inner thigh.

  His stomach clenched at the warmth between her legs and his ears burned at the soft whimpers falling from her lips. He moved two fingers over her wet underwear. He wanted her wetter. He reluctantly released her neck to move his palm down her back. He squeezed her ass and her whimpers turned to moans as she pressed her pussy down onto his fingers.

  He pressed her underwear between her slit, circling her clit. “Ride my fingers,” he commanded.

  “Yes, Mr. Shimizu,” she whispered.

  He grunted and squeezed her ass again, thrusting his hips up toward her.

  Her hips began to move in slow circles as she rode the palm of his hand. Their eyes were locked to one another’s. Cleo’s gaze was burning, fierce. He wondered how he’d survived so long without her.

  “It could be like this from now on,” he whispered to her. “You could go straight.”

  “Sounds boring,” she said.

  He moved his fingers inside the gusset of her underwear and slipped two fingers into her pulsing cunt.

  Her head fell back with a loud cry.

  “This feel boring to you, sweetheart?”

  “Oh fuck,” she screamed. Her body shuddered in his arms and her pussy clenched around his digits.

  He squeezed her ass again, encouraging her to ride his fingers harder and faster. “We could spend every day and night together. I can give you whatever you want. You won’t have to steal a thing. But if you need the rush, you can take everything I have. Just stay with me.” His voice was wild, hoarse, desperate. Robert had never had to plead for a thing in his life, but Cleo was worth it; worth more than this, actually.

  He thrust his hips up at her while she circled her hips down onto his fingers. The room was full of the sounds of Cleo’s desperate cries, Robert’s grunts and the chair scraping against
the marble as they rutted against one another. He’d never heard anything so beautiful.

  “Look at me,” he demanded.

  She did so immediately, moving her hands to clutch his shoulders, nails digging into his jacket. She whimpered and moaned. “I’m close,” she whined.

  “Stay with me,” he begged. His dick was painfully hard, and he wanted nothing more than to undo his pants and replace his fingers with his shaft. But he needed an answer. He’d made himself a promise somewhere along the way that when he finally got inside Cleo again, he wanted it to be forever. He wanted to be able to take his time with her, get reacquainted with every part of her body. He wanted to chart any changes with his tongue. He wanted to remind her of what it felt like to be in his control. And then he wanted to fall asleep knowing that he wouldn’t have to worry about waking up without her again. He needed that. They deserved that.

  “Cleo,” he barked.

  “Can I come?” she screamed. “Please, let me come.”

  “Answer me,” he said.

  She was riding his fingers wildly now. She moved her hands to bracket his face, watching him as she tried to stop herself from letting the orgasm take her over. “Please,” she whined.

  “Please,” he echoed.

  He could see it, just on the tip of her tongue. He was certain that she’d been just about to tell him yes.

  But then the fire alarm began to blare in the room.

  And they both lost it.

  eight

  The first thing Cleo thought when her muscles relaxed and she shuddered a breath, blinking back into consciousness after an orgasm that made lights flash behind her eyelids, was, “Mr. Shimizu is going to be pissed I came without approval,” and she’d shivered in anticipation. The second thing she thought was that she hadn’t felt as peaceful as she did in that moment in too long to remember. And the third thing she thought was that someone needed to turn that fucking alarm off because it was fucking up her post-orgasmic high.

  “Cleo,” Robert murmured against her chin. His beard was so soft and downy against her skin that she was rubbing against it like some kind of attention-starved cat. “We have to get out of here,” he whispered against her jaw.

  She wanted to tell him not yet. That this was probably just a false alarm. But she just kept snuggling into his arms, rubbing her face against his beard, probably covering him with her makeup, and letting herself feel the rightness of that.

  Then the elevator behind them dinged and some strange man Cleo didn’t recognize burst into the room. “Let’s get a move on,” he said.

  Cleo came fully into consciousness and frowned at him. “We’re busy. Who the fuck are you?”

  The man looked down at her with amused eyes for a second before turning to Robert. “I guess I can see why you spent a fucking fortune looking for her.” And then he turned back to Cleo. “Thanks for the overtime. Now, get a move on.”

  Cleo balked.

  “Calm down,” Robert whispered to her.

  His voice was lighter than she’d ever heard. He sounded… happy. She turned to him and saw the truth of that in his eyes.

  “They’ll clear the hotel and then we’ll come back.”

  “What about the charity poker games?”

  He shrugged. “Stevie’ll handle that,” he said, motioning toward the man beckoning them to what must be an emergency exit door on the far side of the room.

  “I’m not walking down thirty flights of stairs.”

  “Not with that attitude,” Stevie called. “Let’s go.”

  “We only have to go down three flights then we can cross to the north wing of the hotel. Come on.”

  She stood from his lap in a huff. Her knees were weak and her inner thighs were sticky. She moved so Robert could stand and shimmied her dress from around her waist. Alex is going to kill me, she thought to herself. That made her remember that she’d taken out her earpiece and her eyes darted around the floor at her feet.

  “Looking for this?” Robert asked, his palm open to her.

  Cleo’s eyes lifted to his, and his gaze wasn’t soft and warm anymore. He was looking at her as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle. That was smart, if not also terrifying.

  She snagged her earpiece from his palm and held it delicately between two fingers. “I—”

  “Let’s. Fucking. Go,” Stevie called from the emergency exit.

  “Tell me later,” he said and grabbed her other hand, a lot of emphasis on that final word.

  Cleo let him pull her toward the exit as she slipped her earpiece back on.

  “Cleo. Cleo, what’s happening? What the fuck is going on?”

  “Sounds like he’s sweating her wig glue off, but I don’t know,” Gina said nonchalantly.

  “At least fucking up her makeup a little bit,” Marcus said.

  “Shut the fuck up. Cleo,” Alex called again.

  “I’m here,” she muttered.

  Alex didn’t hide her sigh of relief. “Thank god. Here’s the plan.”

  Cleo held onto Robert’s hand as he led her down the three flights of stairs at a brisk but careful pace, his eyes on her heels, she noticed. She followed him out onto the twenty-seventh floor, where a steady stream of security seemed to be ushering people through the fire doors and across the elevated walkway to the north tower. The walkway was clear all around and Cleo, who wasn’t particularly afraid of heights, made the mistake of looking down. Below them, the city just kept moving, as if the drama in this hotel didn’t mean anything. She moved her free hand to the hand joined with Robert’s and leaned into his side.

  “I’ve got you,” he muttered to her on instinct, squeezing her palm in his.

  Halfway to the north tower, another man fell into step next to Robert. Cleo assumed he was another of his employees because he started to give him a rundown.

  “Seems like it’s a false alarm. Maybe a prank. But the fire department has to come through and clear each floor. You want us to set you up in the other penthouse?”

  Robert shook his head. “No, that’s fine. Where’s the hotel manager?”

  “Across the way. We got him up here to meet with you.”

  “Good.”

  Cleo didn’t have a hard time following their conversation while also listening to her sister tell her what to do. What kind of criminal would she be if she couldn’t multitask?

  When they made it through the other set of fire doors, Cleo saw a group of people heading to the fire stairs on this side of the hotel. In the opposite direction, she saw a group of men in suits and tactical gear — clearly Robert’s security — surrounding a small, balding man she guessed was the hotel manager.

  They stopped walking and Robert turned to her. “Wait here. This’ll only take a minute.”

  Cleo did not believe in gushy sentimentality. She didn’t mind emotion, but dramatics? Not her bag. That’s why she surprised even herself when she pulled Robert’s face to hers, shoved her tongue in his mouth and kissed the fuck out of him.

  He grabbed onto her waist immediately, pulling her body to his. No hesitation. She’d never had that before. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered. “Tomas’ll stay with you,” he said, nodding to the man who’d joined them in the walkway.

  She nodded. “Hurry back.”

  He brushed his mouth against hers one more time, and then he and Stevie turned away. She watched him, but only for a few seconds. Alex’s plan was too flimsy, with no margin for error. She turned quickly to Tomas.

  “Is there a bathroom on this floor?” she asked, even though she knew there wasn’t.

  He shook his head and then spoke into a two-way speaker clipped to his shirt. She saw Stevie turn toward them, but she didn’t turn his way. If she did, he might have seen something in her eyes that she so rarely felt: regret. She kept her eyes trained on Tomas and waited as he spoke quickly back and forth with Stevie.

  “There’s one on the next floor down. Follow me,” he said.

  Cleo nodded quickly and joined Tom
as as he stepped into the line of guests heading to the stairwell. Just before she walked through the door, she turned her head. She caught one last glimpse of Robert; hands on his hips, his head bent as he listened to the hotel manager speak. His hair was partially obscuring his face. She’d remember him like this forever, she thought sadly.

  As she was looking away, her eyes clashed with Stevie’s. She didn’t know him well enough to recognize the look in his eyes but she turned away, stepping into the stairwell quickly. She didn’t know what Stevie had seen in her eyes, but she decided to imagine that this plan had even less time for execution than before, and maybe she’d already made the gravest error she could imagine: she looked back.

  She followed Tomas down a flight of stairs. He pulled the door to the hallway open for her. She sighed. He must be new at this, she thought to herself. That’s useful. The hallway in front of them was deserted.

  “Bathroom’s over there,” he said, indicating a door close to the elevator.

  “Don’t you need to check it?” she asked.

  “For what?”

  Cleo frowned and shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’m sure Mr. Shimizu would want you to be very diligent with me.” Then she smiled at him and waited.

  If he were close to Robert or had been doing this longer than a second, he’d have told her that there wasn’t a threat here, she could pee in peace. But Cleo could read people — well, most people — and she’d figured Tomas correctly.

  His eyes darted around the hallway and then to the bathroom door. “Stay here,” he said to her.

  “Obviously. I need to piss. Be quick.”

  He frowned and then walked to the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, she pressed the elevator call button. The doors opened immediately and Cleo slipped through them as soon as she could.

  “‘Bout time,” Marcus said with a broad smile.

  They both pressed the button to close the doors on either side of the elevator. Cleo didn’t let herself breathe until the elevator doors closed again.