Stealing Allie

by H S Russell

  So no, I decide that wearing just his shirt is not a very good idea.

  Whether I look ridiculous or not, the toga sheet stays.

  When Lucas brings my dinner that night, he looks me up and down, taking in my makeshift toga layered on top of his shirt. He actually glares at me as he sets down my tray. “I see that I should have stripped the bed. Wearing that sheet is a crime, Allie.”

  Lucas has never, not once, said anything even remotely flirtatious or sexual to me. I’ve caught him looking at me a few times, but it was nothing other than man-boy ogling of a girl.

  This is entirely different, and it takes me by surprise.

  Not wanting to let him make us feel like we’re friends, I glare right back at him. “I’d like my clothes back. I thought you said you’d bring them tonight.”

  He doesn’t hesitate. “No.”

  “What do you mean no?”

  He seems to think before answering. “Because I like the way you look in my shirt.”

  Apparently he decided to go with blunt honesty.

  “I don’t care if you like how I look or not. I want my clothes back.” I put a little more force behind my words.

  Lucas draws himself up, taking a step toward me. His hot gaze moves from my body up to my face. His voice is lower, huskier. “I told you I’m not going to hurt you. But I enjoy how you look in my shirt. That’s reason enough for me to keep your clothes, whether you agree with me or not.” But then he grimaces. “Besides, those clothes are hideous.” He’s silent as he looks me over. “You look like a goddess in just my shirt, Allie.”

  The words startle me as awareness arcs through my body. Something different, something hot and yearning and needy rolls off me and seems to land on him. When he looks at me, his nostrils flare as if he’s scented my arousal. I take a step back from the danger that’s suddenly blanketing the room.

  Despite being attracted to him, I can’t allow him to manipulate me like this. “If you think I should be grateful just because a handsome man like you compliments my looks, you’re wrong. You’re nothing but a criminal who’s stolen everything away from me. I could care less how you think I look.”

  It takes Lucas three strides to get to me and two more strides to push me against the wall. It’s the first time he’s touched me since the trailer. The heat of his body feels so good against mine, like I’d been cold and hadn’t even realized it. His hard body presses against my soft one, and it’s all I can do to stop the moan from escaping my lips. He feels so good pressed against me like this. So solid and warm. Strong. My body aches for something it’s not sure it’s ever really had, but thankfully, my brain knows better and tells my body to calm the fuck down.

  Lucas, unaware of my inner battle, plants his arms on the wall behind me, caging me in. The action is both sexy and menacing. I’m ashamed as I feel my body respond to this blatant act of domination. I want to turn away, but I make myself be brave and stare right back at him. His hazel eyes are a wet, polished stone as he leans down to whisper in my ear.

  “You think that just because I said I wouldn’t hurt you that I wouldn’t try to fuck you? Those are two very different things, Allie, and I only promised you one of them.”

  If he’s asked me to marry him, I couldn’t be more shocked. Never could I have thought a man like Lucas would want me. Not with the way I looked with my extra weight and ugly hair. Despite how secretly exhilarating his attention is, I can’t fall for it or allow this to happen. I doubt he really even means it. “You’ve taken my whole life away from me and haven’t seemed to blink an eye at the impact it might have. You are nothing but a criminal who will be spending the majority of his life in prison. You are insane if you think I could ever want someone like you.”

  Lucas shakes his head at me and laughs under his breath. Not from humor, but from astonishment that I would dare to say what I just said. “I won’t be spending time in prison, Allie. Not because I’m not a criminal, but because I’m that good. As for wanting me? There’s only one way a man answers a challenge like that.” He presses his body harder against mine. “Tell me you haven’t thought of this. Tell me you haven’t wanted me to mark you as mine.”

  I take in a whispery little gasp at his words, and thief that he is, Lucas uses my gasp to capture my lips, taking me with a deep, hot kiss that stuns me from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. His lips demand that mine open for him, his tongue forcing its way in to taste me and tell me all the dirty things he wants to do to me. His lips mold and shape mine as he claims my mouth with his.

  When he breaks the kiss, he stays where he is. His eyelids are lowered. “Say what you will, Allie, but I can smell your desire. I bet your pussy is weeping for my fingers and my cock.” He captures my mewl of angry desire in a fast, hard kiss. “Do you taste as good as you smell? Should I find out?” he asks me, his breath panting against my lips.

  Before his hand can reach out for me, I push him back, surprising him with enough force to break his hold. Our gazes clash as we stare at each other, adversaries once again in every way. “Just say the word, Allie,” he says, his gaze sweeping my body one last time. “Say the word and I’ll be fucking you until you’re screaming my name.”

  I shake my head no while my body begs for me to say yes. He is the ultimate bad-boy aphrodisiac. Delicious to look at and taste, but in the end, so bad for you. “You think sex with you won’t hurt me? You don’t know me very much if you believe that. Regardless, though, I don’t want this,” I tell him. “Get off of me and leave me alone.”

  Lucas watches me for a few heart-stopping moments, then backs away, leaving me wilted against the wall.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Allie,” he tells me. “But I’m not going to leave you alone either. You’re a woman I’m holding in my house. I’m the man that’s holding you here against your will. There’s a natural order to this, whether you want to admit it or not.”

  I look away, then feel his finger trace a line down my cheek. “I understand that you’re afraid, but I swear, I won’t hurt you.” He’s silent for a few moments, maybe waiting to see if I’ll respond. When I don’t, I sense him walking away until his voice comes from across the room. “I also understand that you’re upset, but I’m the only one who has the key to this door. I would keep that in mind if I were you.”

  Once he’s gone, I take another shower where I can cry without fear of him hearing me. After the tears but while the hot water still beats down on me, I give in to the desperate ache he created inside of me. Slipping my fingers between my legs, I imagine him doing wicked things to me, and the thoughts drive me into a pulsing orgasm—one so strong it makes my knees go weak. I let the force of it take me down to the shower floor. There, I wrap my arms around my legs as I think about what’s just happened. I’m at a complete loss as to everything that’s changed, but I come to the conclusion that I’m in as much danger from him as I am from myself.

  There’s only one solution to all of this. I need to get out of here.

  Chapter 8

  Lucas

  The morning after I kissed Allie, the guys and I have a conference call. We all live in different cities, so all of our business and planning is done over the phone. We have a lot of business to discuss, including what to do with Allie. Right now, José is going over the wrap-up for the job Allie caught us on. Knowing I’m not needed for this part of the discussion, I let my mind wander to my little captive.

  Captive… The name makes me snort.

  There’s a hierarchy to criminals, just like there is in every career. I’ve always considered kidnappers to be on the lower end of the spectrum, meaning that I always considered them to be stupid, crazy fucks. Kidnapping is the surest way to guarantee a life sentence in a supermax prison with no chance for parole.

  My crimes have always been white-collar crimes—digital espionage and intellectual property theft are my game. And yet, here I am. Kidnapper of innocent women. False imprisoner to hapless victims of circumstance.

 
Idiot Extraordinaire.

  I rake my hands down my face, wishing a solution would somehow fall into my lap.

  I think back to last night’s kiss. I was so close to ripping my shirt and that ridiculous sheet off of Allie and fucking her brains out like I’d been imagining all day. I can’t believe the level of want I feel for her. The way I want her, the way she tempts me, is unlike anything I’ve felt before. And I don’t know if I really even want her. Allie’s the antithesis of the kinds of women I go for.

  I like my women sophisticated, worldly. Women who take lovers, not boyfriends. Women who understand that fucking is a commodity, a transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Despite having pretty blue eyes and soft, porcelain skin, Allie is mostly nondescript and overweight. Plus she dresses like a man. She has no self-esteem, which is even less appealing. Watching her on the video feed should be like watching paint dry: tedious and mind-numbingly boring.

  But it’s not. Instead of being bored silly, I find myself fascinated by her. I’ve watched her every move, whether she’s reading, pacing, searching the room for the umpteenth time, sleeping, or staring out the window. And god, now that I’ve kept her in my shirt, it’s a delicious kind of torture knowing her naked pussy and plump ass are only inches above the tails of my shirt, and that her tits are free and bare underneath the lucky cotton. The longer she stays, my desire for her is only going to grow.

  Which is another problem.

  Allie’s been here for over two weeks now, and I’m no closer to figuring out what to do with her as I was on day one. José still wants me to let her go and just watch her. Adam still wants her to have some tragic accident (over my dead fucking body). Bean remains silent. He wasn’t at the trailer, so he doesn’t have a dog in this fight.

  Bean, Adam, José, and I have been working as a team for over ten years now. And we’re good together. We’ve honed our skills, each of us bringing something different to the table, until we’re become a fine-tuned, well-oiled machine.

  Bean is our digger. He can find shit nobody else can find. He’ll track every digital footprint he can locate, staying on the trail like a rabid dog looking for a bone. Adam is our logistics guy. Timing and planning are critical to our kind of work, and the guy is brilliant at taking care of the little details. José is our salesman. He finds people who need information and are willing to pay for it.

  I’m the boss. I work every element so a job comes together seamlessly. We use secure channels to communicate, always watching our digital footprint. We had a perfect resume. Until Allie.

  City inspection… Of all the fucking things to get caught from. I can’t lie, it chaps the ego.

  Focusing back on the call, I listen as José fills us in on a customer issue before bringing up the topic I know everyone’s been waiting to discuss. I don’t have to wait long.

  “Lucas, what are your plans for your guest? Any ideas yet?” José asks once he’s finished with other business.

  Other than have sex with her over and over until she’s out of my system? “I don’t know.”

  “Dude, you can’t keep her forever,” Bean reminds me.

  The fuck I can’t. I don’t know where that thought comes from. Even though I know they’re all upset about what I’m doing, we need to get one thing settled. “Look, until I know what I’m going to do, she’s staying here.” Everyone is silent for a few moments, hopefully trying to come up with some ideas.

  “Seduce her,” José finally suggests. He’s always the romantic of the bunch.

  Bean and Adam, who are really just twelve-year-old boys despite being near geniuses, start making catcalls.

  José and I ignore them since we’re adults. “If you get her to fall for you, she would stay there willingly. Probably wouldn’t press charges.”

  It’s not a bad idea, especially since it would give me the excuse to fuck her silly. “You want me to pull a Stockholm syndrome on her as a means to get her cooperation?” I ask.

  “If that’s how you want to put it, yes,” he answers.

  Before I give it some thought, Adam pipes up to burst the bubble. “That’s a great idea except for the part where he dumps her and she’s so pissed off or hurt that she goes to the FBI to get revenge.”

  Envisioning that unpleasant scenario, I hear the alarm that signals a vehicle coming up my driveway. I check the monitor and see the familiar brown delivery truck heading toward the house.

  Bean pipes up, finally done with staying quiet. “You guys are so fucking unimaginative it’s disappointing. I don’t even know why I’m still hanging with you if I’m being honest.”

  Adam starts in, but I bark at him to shut the fuck up. “Go on, Bean.”

  “The solution is easy, you cigar dicks. All you have to do is make her look like an accomplice. Like she’s complicit. Plant the right shit in the right places, and she’ll be as guilty as we are. Well, as you guys are. If you plant the right pieces, you won’t have to worry about seducing her to get her to stay quiet, not that you shouldn’t try to seduce her. I’m not saying that. But if you want a sure way to keep her quiet, just tell her that if she turns you in, she’ll be implicated herself as well. If we go to prison, then so does she.”

  We’re all silent as we think this through. My mind starts racing at the possibility. “Bean, that’s a damn good idea,” I tell him. “What type of evidence do you have in mind?”

  Bean lays out a few scenarios, and then we all start talking at once, coming up with different ideas and the best way to make the plants. It would be child’s play for us. And it would solve all of our problems. Well, most of our problems. It won’t solve my fascination with her, but there’s nothing saying I can’t still try to get her into my bed before this is all said and done.

  Right before we hang up, José has one last thing to tell me. “Lucas, even though might just take care of the issue, remember that you can catch more flies with honey. The only way to get a girl like her on your side is to make her fall for you. With our freedom at stake, surely even you can pretend to be interested in her.”

  For our freedom, I can pretend anything.

  Luckily for me, I won’t be pretending.

  Chapter 9

  Allie

  My heart almost stops as I watch what’s happening outside the window.

  There’s a delivery van in the driveway.

  Could this be a way out? I can’t see the front door from my angle, but I can see where the van stops. I can just make out the driver’s movements as he does his job before driving away.

  If I can get out of this room, then I can sneak onto that van. That van would lead to freedom. I’d go to the authorities and tell them what happened. Lucas and the other guys would go to prison, so I wouldn’t live in fear of any retaliation.

  But first I have to get out of this room. I look down at what I’m wearing. And second, I need my clothes back. Not that I can allow a lack of clothes to stop me; I’ll have to take my chance when it comes, toga or no toga.

  Looking out the window, lost in thoughts of escaping, I never sense Lucas’s presence until he’s right behind me.

  “What are you looking at so intently out the window?” he asks, his tone both curious and accusing.

  Thankful that the delivery van is gone, I’m terrified that my thoughts of escape are broadcast all over my face. I glance at him over my shoulder and stop worrying when I realize he hasn’t looked at my face. His gaze is riveted on my body. My body that currently has no sheet covering me up. I wasn’t expecting him, so I’m just wearing the shirt.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask him, buying more time. It’s too soon for dinner.

  He takes a step closer until the heat from our bodies blend together. His hands go to my shoulders, and he places his mouth against my ear. I stiffen up, prepared for him to pick up where we left it last night, but just when I think he’s going to whisper something unbearably erotic, his words douse me with cold water. “Allie,” he says, his voice not soft like I’d
expected, but loud and firm, like he expects to be obeyed. “I asked you what were you looking at.”

  Caught off guard, I reach for the first thing I can think of. “It’s a pretty day; I was just enjoying the view.” It sounds so lame even to me, I wonder how he can possibly buy it.

  “Hmmm,” he finally says, taking a few steps back before finally moving completely away. I move away from the window, watching him as I do. “Do you have everything you need here? I’ve never had a long-term female guest.”

  I find that hard to believe but don’t say anything. “I would still like my clothes back,” I remind him, trying my best not to blush at the memories from last night.

  The corners of his mouth turn up. “I believe I’ve already made it clear that I prefer the shirt. I’ll be happy to remind you just how much if you need me to.”

  “I don’t like wearing your shirts,” I tell him. “I don’t want to wear them.”

  His eyes go cold at my insult, and then hot as if a solution just came to him. “Then by all means, take it off. I’ll be happy to take it away from you if it’s so offensive.”

  If I give him the shirt, I’ll be naked. He knows this, of course. He knows it, and he plays me with it. Heated desire rushes through me. Despite my not wanting to, I feel his words in places I shouldn’t. I shake my head no as I turn back to the window, effectively shutting him out.

  He waits a few seconds in silence before responding.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  And then he’s gone, leaving me alone with my desire and my fear.

  ✤ ✤ ✤

  By the next morning, I’ve calmed down enough to look and act normally. Wearing his shirt and wrapped up in the sheet, I’m as covered as I can be when he brings my breakfast. He glances at me when he first comes in, then ignores me as he carefully sets the tray and extra water bottles down. I swear he’s taking longer than he normally does, but before I know it, he’s turning to face me. His face gives nothing away, no suspicion, no more curious accusation.