On the Prowl

by Kimberly Dean

  Talia hadn’t known she stored so much water inside her. Finally, she reached for her composure. She tried to wipe the dampness from her face but he beat her to it. He grabbed a tissue from a box on the end table. He passed one to her and used another to blot her cheeks.

  “Your intentions were admirable, baby, but I don’t think your father would have liked what you’ve done in the name of his foundation.”

  “No,” she said miserably as she blew her nose. “He’d be so disappointed in me.”

  “You’ve got to find another way to support the school programs. The money is tainted. Is that the kind of role model you want to be for Linc? For comic book Bobby?”

  “No,” she said on another sob. She shook her head to keep from starting a new bout of tears. “You’re right. I need to find another solution.”

  The look on Riley’s face was intense as he looked her straight in the eye. “Good, because if you don’t, I’ll have to arrest you whether I want to or not. Somebody’s got to stop your downward spiral and I’d rather it be me.”

  He leaned forward and she opened her mouth for his hot kiss. Her breath caught, though, when his hand slipped into the cleavage of her ass. He carefully grasped the base of the butt plug. He watched her closely as he pulled it out of her.

  Giving it up was almost as hard as taking it. Talia closed her eyes and shivered as the hard thickness left her. There was another hard thickness left, though, and it was growing bigger with every breath she took. He was fully aroused again.

  “There are a lot of things I want to do to you, sweetheart,” he said as his fingers brushed over the rosebud opening. “Arresting you is not one.”

  She knew what he was asking and her heart swelled inside her chest.

  “Will you let me?” he whispered.

  She looked into his deep dark eyes and felt something inside her squeeze tight. “Yes,” she whispered.

  He wanted to be her first.

  She wanted him to be her first, her last and her only.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The radio alarm went off way too early the next morning. Talia winced and burrowed more solidly against the warm body behind her. She wasn’t ready to wake up; she’d gotten virtually no sleep. Riley had kept her busy for what had remained of yesterday and most of the night.

  Very, very busy.

  Tiredly, she opened her eyes. Dawn had barely broken but she could see the shambles the room was in. Her pillow was leaning endwise against the wall and somehow the sheet had ended up in a wad underneath the dresser. The comforter was half off the bed, which was amazing since the mattress itself had gotten knocked cockeyed on the box springs. She didn’t think they’d missed a flat surface in the room.

  She closed her eyes more tightly. She wasn’t going to be ready to get up for another ten hours, at least.

  Unfortunately, the alarm was intent on kicking her out of bed. She tried to block it out but Riley wasn’t into easy-listening music. Steven Tyler was wailing about being back in the saddle again. Talia groaned. No more riding. She needed sleep.

  Behind her, Riley shifted. “Shit,” he said tiredly.

  “Turn it off,” she begged.

  “Can’t. Gotta work.”

  Work. At the police station. He’d promised to help her but she wasn’t ready to go back to the real world yet. “No. Stay here with me.”

  He grunted. “Don’t tempt me.”

  Grumpily, she yanked on the comforter, pulling it over to her side. He might have to work but she owned her own business. She wasn’t getting up until she was good and ready.

  His arm wrapped around her. His hand cupped her breast in a possessive manner she was beginning to become accustomed to and his lips found a sensitive spot on the side of her neck. “Cold?”

  “No.” He’d kept her hot and bothered all night. “Just tired.”

  “Me, too. We really went at it.”

  She blushed. If they’d forgotten to try a position, she wasn’t familiar with it. He’d taught her several new ones, in fact. She stretched and immediately felt the soreness in her body. “Oh!” she gasped.

  He’d become so attuned to her, he knew without asking. His hand slid down to her buttocks and one finger slipped into the crevice. He rubbed her puckered opening lightly. “All right?”

  Her breath caught. She nodded quickly but he didn’t remove his hand.

  “Do you need anything? I have some ointment in the bathroom.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “You’re just not used to feeling sensitive back there.” He nipped at her ear. “I like it. It will make you think of me.”

  It already was. Memories of the debauched things they’d done flashed through her head as his fingers played. Her heart rate picked up as she remembered him carrying her into the room and laying her flat on her stomach on the bed. He’d slid a pillow under her hips and retrieved lubricant from the bedside stand… After that, things got a little hazy.

  Talia licked her dry lips. She remembered resisting the invasion but he’d gone slowly. He’d soothed her with soft words and gentle touches. The harsh breaths, sharp cries and sounds of slapping flesh had come later.

  Heat collected in her sex. She remembered pressure, pain and a dark, fierce pleasure that had consumed her. She remembered clenching the sheet until it had ripped. Maybe that was how it had ended up on the floor…

  Embarrassed, she pressed her face into the pillow they shared. Yes, she’d be sore all day but she’d also be wet. With every step she took, she’d be reminded of what he’d done to her and how she’d reveled in it.

  “It’ll get easier,” he whispered in her ear as he stroked her delicately.

  There was no question they’d do it again. And again and again and again. They’d both liked it too much. It would always be their special thing. She knew her relationships with other men bothered him. This was the one gift she could give him to let him know that jealousy wasn’t necessary.

  Impulsively, she rolled over and kissed him. “I don’t ever want it to be easy.”

  A wicked expression spread across his face. “I told you you’d like it.”

  “Yeah? Well, I did some things that you liked, too.”

  His lips turned upward in a smile that had her heart flipping. “Speaking of which…”

  She whooped as he rolled her onto her back and climbed on top of her. The music on the radio gave way to the news and he reached over to swat at it. She knew where his mind was heading but the name “Winston” caught her attention.

  “Wait,” she said as she caught his hand. “They’re talking about the professor.”

  “Anton Winston, a professor of art history at New Covington College, was taken into custody yesterday after reportedly trying to sell a portrait stolen from New Covington’s Heritage Museum,” the reporter said. “Mr. Brent Harrington III, President of the Council for the Arts, had this to say about the arrest.”

  Talia cringed when she heard Brent’s cocky voice come over the airwaves. He was the last person she wanted to think of as she was lying in Riley’s bed.

  “I’m thrilled that the New Covington Cat Burglar has finally been caught,” he said.

  “What?” She pushed Riley off of her and sat straight up. “Winston’s not the Cat Burglar!”

  Riley gestured for her to quiet down so he could hear. Reaching over to the radio, he turned up the volume.

  “This arrest is the first step in assuring the safety of the citizens of our fine town,” Brent said with an authority he didn’t possess. “Unfortunately, I’ve been extremely disappointed with the way our police department has handled this case.”

  Talia’s head snapped so hard toward Riley, she nearly gave herself whiplash.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered.

  “I have faith in our legal system,” Brent continued, “but I see no other recourse for myself and the other victims of this serial thief than to request an outside review of the department’s actions—or lack there
of. I have a meeting scheduled with the commissioner tomorrow afternoon to discuss the matter.”

  “Police department officials had no comment,” the reporter said. “Winston is currently at the Hayward County jail awaiting bail. We’ll keep you updated on this story as it progresses.”

  Riley’s hand flashed out and killed the alarm. He threw his legs over the side of the bed. “That fucking son –of a bitch,” he said as he stomped to the dresser.

  “Winston isn’t the Cat Burglar,” Talia said. She was! The professor had done nothing but help her…by fencing the New Covington Cat Burglar’s spoils. She ran a hand over her face. Her moral compass might be off-kilter but she knew one thing for certain. The professor couldn’t pay for her crimes. She pulled the comforter to her chest and sat up on her haunches. “What are we going to do?”

  Riley threw her a look. “We aren’t going to do anything. I’ll handle this.”

  “But it’s my fault.”

  He opened drawers and started pulling out clothes. “It’s not your fault that the media didn’t check their facts. We didn’t even charge Winston with the Cat Burglar thefts. I don’t know where they got that.”

  Queasiness suddenly hit her stomach. “I do.”

  The muscles in his back clenched and the drawer slammed shut with a bang. “Harrington. Fucking son –of a bitch.”

  Talia scrambled out of bed, taking the comforter with her. She suddenly understood what was going on. She was responsible for this, but in more ways than Riley could understand. “I’ll go talk to Brent—or maybe I should see the professor first.”

  He caught the tail end of the comforter and jerked her to a stop. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “But—”

  “No ‘buts’ about it. You go back to your shop and act like everything’s normal. I’ll go down to the station and try to clear the professor before he cracks under the pressure and gives you up. He’s got to have an alibi for at least one or two of the robberies.”

  Talia reached out and laid her hand on Riley’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. There was one thing he was forgetting and it was the thing that worried her the most. “Brent’s going after you, too. You’ve got to protect yourself.”

  He cupped her by the back of her neck and pulled her to him. The look he gave her was red-hot. “Bring him on.”

  She wasn’t so confident. She knew Brent a lot better than he did. When the Turd got something in his mind, he was relentless. And in this town, he had the ways and means to do just about anything. Just look at how quickly he’d managed to schedule a meeting with the police commissioner. She dropped the comforter and wrapped both arms around Riley’s waist. “He’s going for your badge.”

  “I can handle his preppy white ass.”

  She shook her head. He wasn’t listening. “Take me down to the station with you. I’ll turn myself in and he’ll back off. I know he will.”

  “Like hell.” He lifted her so he could look her in the eye. “We already talked about this. You’re not to say anything.”

  She wrapped herself around him like a vine and clung. “I’m not going to let him take you down.”

  He gently stroked her back. “He won’t. I mean it, baby. Stay out of this. I’ve been looking forward to going a round or two with that bastard for a long time.”

  Tension screamed in her veins. She didn’t doubt he could clean Brent’s clock but that wasn’t the kind of fight he was in for. “He fights dirty.”

  “So do I.” He gave her a hard kiss but then peeled her off of him. “I’ve got to get going.”

  She stood in numbed silence as he picked up his clothes and headed to the bathroom. He stopped with his hand on the doorjamb, though, giving her a delicious view of his backside. “And get rid of whatever is in that briefcase,” he said flatly. “I don’t care how. Just do it today.”

  Talia moved weakly to the bed. She sat down with a thump and heard the shower start. There was no way she could make him understand—not without telling him more than he wanted to hear.

  Because this wasn’t about the New Covington Cat Burglar anymore. This was about her, Talia Sizemore.

  Brent had warned her. He’d told her that he wouldn’t let a common, blue-collared police detective have her. She’d just never expected him to go to these lengths.

  She dropped her face into her hands. She’d underestimated him, big time. This ploy involving the Cat Burglar was about one thing and one thing only. He was going after Riley. She hadn’t expected that. He’d always come after her before. She’d made the mistake of believing she could fend him off.

  She nearly laughed at her stupidity. She hadn’t fended off anything. She’d just delayed it.

  Her body tingled. Brent had been very clear on what she was and wasn’t to do and she’d just broken his cardinal rule. She looked around the disheveled room. She’d broken it more times than she could count.

  Hopelessness weighed heavily on her shoulders. She’d been a fool to think she could end things so easily. Brent wasn’t going to allow himself to be cast aside like an old shoe. He wasn’t going to stop until she was truly his private plaything.

  She reached for the pillow and hugged it to her chest. Their sick relationship had started all this. Now the professor was in trouble and Riley’s job and reputation were in danger.

  Panic suddenly assailed her. She couldn’t leave things like this. She couldn’t let Riley try to clean up after her. He didn’t know the things she knew. He could walk right into Brent’s trap, not even realizing it.

  She wasn’t the one who needed protection. He was.

  Anxiety made her stomach turn. She had to do something. But what?

  What could she do to divert the attention from the professor, yet at the same time throw a kink in Brent’s plans?

  An idea crystallized in her head but it wasn’t one she liked. She looked at the bathroom door, feeling almost nauseous.

  There was no way around it.

  She had to go out for one last heist.

  She let out a shuddering breath and raked a hand through her hair. She’d have to break her promise to Riley but she couldn’t see any other solution. The only surefire way to prove the professor’s innocence was to do another job while he was in custody. He’d still be facing the fencing charges but at least he wouldn’t have to defend himself from unjust claims. And if she was creative enough, she might also be able to stop Brent from ruining Riley.

  Riley.

  Tears pressed at her eyes. This would be the last straw for him. She’d lose him if she did this. Their relationship was too new and fragile.

  A sob escaped her but she stiffened her spine. Her feelings were immaterial. She was the one who’d created this mess. She had to clean it up. Protecting Riley from the fallout was more important than anything.

  At least they’d had one night of happiness together.

  “Just think,” she said out loud. She wiped her damp cheek and forced herself to back away from her emotions. She had one shot at doing this and she needed to do it right. For his sake. Her heart rate began to slow from its frantic pace as the plan began to form in her head.

  The “who” was obvious. Brent Harrington the Turd was going to pay and he was going to pay big. She could deal with the things he’d done to her but now he was going after Riley. That pushed things to another level. The man had to be stopped and she was going to be the one to do it.

  The “what” was more difficult. She had to lift something that would hit Brent hard enough in the pocketbook to make him wince. But what? And how was she supposed to fence whatever she lifted? Without the professor, that was going to be difficult.

  The professor…

  Brent…

  A memory of her fateful night in Harrington’s office entered her head. She remembered seeing something—something valuable, sentimental and, if she played her cards right, sellable. The picture was so vivid, she could see things in Technicolor.

  Of course!

  She
flopped across the bed and reached for the phone. She needed to call a cab.

  She had a lot of work to do and a short time to do it. For tonight, Harrington was going to get what was coming to him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The night was dark and portentous as Talia stood on Harrington property looking up at the second floor balcony. It was only poetic that she’d end up here. Things had come full circle.

  It was time to put them to rest.

  It had been a long day. Her plan had come together in pieces and she’d had to scramble to get things ready. As she looked upward, though, it made the hard work worthwhile. Things had come together amazingly well. The sky was overcast with clouds. The cold spell had finally snapped and the forty-degree temperature made it easier to work. Snow had melted over the course of the day, rendering her hike across the grounds virtually untraceable.

  Still, she felt uneasy.

  She usually spent more time planning a hit, especially one as complicated as this. The key to safety was in the details. She’d spent weeks staking out Edward Jones to learn his habits. Although she’d moved on Ramona earlier than she’d intended, she’d had at least three weeks of preparation time put in for that job, too. For this, there hadn’t been the luxury of time.

  The media was having a field day with Professor Winston and the story had only gotten hotter when Ramona had reported the robbery at her condo. After that, poor Riley hadn’t been able to shake them, either. She hadn’t been in contact with him but he’d been interviewed on the six o’clock news—if one could call a terse “no comment” response an interview.

  Those two short words told her a lot. He was exhausted and losing his patience. If she’d had any reservations about what she was about to do, that put them behind her. She had to lure the media away—put the hounds off their scent. If things went according to plan, she’d soon add a new twist to the story. Neither Riley nor the professor would be bothered after that.

  “But you will, Brent,” she said as she pulled the ski mask over her head.

  There was no turning back now.

  Before she could lose her nerve, she tossed her grappling hook up to the balcony. It snagged on the first try. She gave it an experimental tug and double-checked her equipment. Her adrenaline started pumping and she took a deep, bracing breath.