STILL A THIEF
Doreen DeSalvo
www.loose-id.com
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Still a Thief
Doreen DeSalvo
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by
Loose Id LLC
1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924
Carson City NV 89701-1215
www.loose-id.com
Copyright © June 2007 by Doreen DeSalvo
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.
ISBN 978-1-59632-404-6
Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader
Printed in the United States of America
Editor: Maryam Salim
Cover Artist: Anne Cain
In loving memory of Geno M.
Has it been a year already, paesano? I can't believe how much I miss you.
Chapter One
Jake leaned one hip against the sparkling marble counter and glared into his mug. Even her dishes were out of his league. Delicate and creamy white, intricately painted with floating leaves and some sort of exotic, cup-shaped pink flowers. Lily pads, maybe? A thin, perfectly even band of gold ran around the rim and down the sides of the tiny handle. In his big rough hand, the cup looked like it came from a doll’s tea set. A rich doll. Each of these little china cups probably cost more than he’d ever made in a whole day’s work.
The coffee was probably top of the line, too ‑‑ not that his taste buds were refined enough to tell the difference. He took a slurp. Hot, strong, and just a little bitter. Perfect. One of the top two things he’d missed while he’d been in prison.
The shower turned off in the other room. Ah, there was the other thing he’d missed.
Women.
He imagined Kate emerging from the tub, all wet and warm, her peachy skin glistening. Would her hair be up in a towel, baring the long curve of her neck? Would she put one foot on the edge of the tub to dry her leg, sliding the towel between her thighs to surreptitiously rub her pussy? Would her clit tingle when she remembered all the ways he’d touched her…taken her…violated her…just a few hours ago? Maybe she’d play with herself for a minute, remembering.
He set the mug down with a clink and took a step toward the door, then stopped. What was he thinking? She’d been too guarded earlier, when he’d woken up to find her standing next to the bed, nudging his shoulder. Get up, Jake. We have to leave in an hour.
She’d been nice about it, but the meaning was clear. No way was she gonna let an ex-con she hadn’t seen in ten years hang out alone in her upscale apartment all day. And from the way she’d high-tailed it into the shower without even giving him a kiss, odds were good he wasn’t going to get a quickie before she went to work.
Work. He should be thinking about getting a job, not the classy lawyer in the other room, not her coffee, and not her tiny expensive cups.
His parole officer had been full of useless advice. File an application at the unemployment office. Go to the Salvation Army and apply for job training. Like he had time to wait around for bureaucrats to get things in gear. Without some fast cash, he’d be out of his by-the-week hotel at the end of the month.
Who’d be desperate enough to hire a guy fresh out of prison? He had no real work experience, no education but a few community college classes, no vocational training…nothing to recommend him but his muscles.
Construction, maybe. He could sit on the wall over at Unemployment and wait for someone to drive by looking for cheap, strong day laborers…and hope that there wasn’t already a group of guys waiting who’d staked their claim on the same gig.
He wouldn’t be a day laborer for long. All he needed was a foot in the door. He wasn’t afraid of a little hard work, and any foreman would appreciate that attitude.
He polished off the coffee in one swallow, then rinsed his cup and left it on the little rubber mat in the bottom of the sink. A decent guest would wash it, but with his luck he'd chip the damned thing.
Clicking heels approached the kitchen. Kate dressed faster than any woman he’d ever known. It didn’t show, though ‑‑ she appeared in the doorway, neat and tidy in a crisp white blouse and navy suit. The regulation length skirt covered her knees, and her shoes were plain low pumps. Sensible shoes, his granny would have called them. Her damp hair was pulled back in a familiar neat little bun ‑‑ a French twist, she’d informed him last night, seconds before he’d yanked the pins out and thrust his hands into her hair, pulling her head up to his for a deep kiss.
Had it only been twelve hours ago that he’d kissed her for the first time? Seemed like they’d kissed a thousand times ‑‑ but still not enough to satisfy him.
He got a quick glance from her and a half-smile on her way past him to the table. She picked up a maroon purse from a chair and then looked over in his direction, her gaze assessing. Shit, did she think he’d stolen something from her bag? He could feel himself scowling and didn’t do a damned thing to stop it.
The purse strap went over her shoulder as she bent to pick up a briefcase, notching it into the crook of her arm when she straightened. “Are you ready?”
At least she didn’t sound suspicious. She’d probably wait until she dropped him off before checking her credit cards and cash.
“Yeah. Thanks for the coffee.” He put air quotes around the last word, making it sound like he was thanking her for a lot more than the coffee.
A tinge of pink stained her cheeks. Good. She deserved it for looking at him like a thief. What, she trusted him to tie her up and fuck her, but she didn’t trust him alone with her wallet?
Hell, what did he expect? He’d robbed a gas station. Badly, which led to his three years in prison. But this was Kate ‑‑ the woman who’d let him act out every kinky fantasy he’d honed during those three long years, the woman who’d smiled up at him like he was a rock star after he’d fucked her in the ass. The woman who’d curled naked against him, all trusting and warm, while she slept. After everything they’d done last night, now she had the nerve to treat him like a criminal?
OK, so he was a criminal. Even so, the guarded look on her face pissed him off. Like he had to walk on eggshells around her. Like he didn’t deserve to be in the same room with her, let alone the same bed.
Maybe he didn’t. But he’d be damned before he admitted it.
And he
’d be damned before he let her treat him like a one-night stand.
He pushed away from the counter and took a few steps closer. She walked toward the door, leading him out of the kitchen.
“Kate.” He pulled the strap of her purse until she stopped and pivoted back around, looking up at him with just a hint of fear in her pretty green eyes. She was standing next to a big, strong thug who could put her over his shoulder and carry her to the bedroom no matter how she tried to stop him, and she knew it.
His cock twitched. Maybe he was a sick bastard, but that little twinge of feminine anxiety got his blood pounding. The mutinous frown on her soft, immaculately pink lips was a challenge he couldn’t resist. He wanted to kiss her until lipstick was smeared on her chin…he wanted to see those lips begging him to make her come. He wanted to see those lips stretched around his cock.
And she loved being vulnerable. He knew it in his bones. She might pretend to be a prissy little prude, but underneath the buttoned-up façade she wanted to be treated like a woman…like a woman who lived to be fucked, to be taken in every way imaginable ‑‑ tied up, tormented, left exhausted and whimpering for more. The need was primal, beyond her control. His Kate was a high-powered lawyer, as brainy as she was beautiful. The kind of woman who wound men around her little finger all day long. But deep down inside, in the secret fantasies she barely let herself imagine, she craved the domination of a man who would give her all the pain and pleasure her sweet body could handle.
And sometimes ‑‑ hell, most of the time ‑‑ she wanted to pretend he was forcing her.
A closet submissive.
His submissive.
And if she thought he was going to let her walk out of his life, she had another thing coming.
She said nothing, just stared at him mutely, waiting for him to make the first move. Her throat pulsed ‑‑ a sure sign of nervousness, that delicate little swallow.
To disarm her, he smiled. “No time for a kiss?”
She huffed out a soft whisper of a laugh, obviously relieved, and tilted her face up. He kissed her softly at first, politely, but when she backed off he brought his mouth down hard, sucking at her lips, hauling her up against him until she was leaning heavily onto his chest. He must have pulled her off her feet. She struggled a little, pushing at his shoulders, and he nipped at her lower lip to show her who was boss.
She whimpered against his mouth, but not in resistance. Her hands were on his head, pulling him down to her. No doubt about it, she liked a man who took charge. She might not trust him, but that was part of the pleasure for her. And he didn’t really want her trust. Just her body.
When his hand slid down her ass and started pulling her skirt up in back, she broke the kiss. Hot little puffs of breath hit his lips as she panted for air. “I have to go to work, Jake.”
He stroked the back of her thigh, teasing. “You can be a little late.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Five minutes.” He didn’t make it a question.
She looked down at his chin, eyelids dropping to shield her eyes from him. “Maybe later…after work?”
There was no maybe about it. Last night she’d claimed she wanted more than a one-night stand. Had that been the orgasm talking? Was she dumping him already?
Not if he had anything to say about it. “I was planning on taking you out to dinner.” And then I’m planning on taking you to bed.
One edge of her bottom lip disappeared, as though she was worrying it with her teeth but didn’t want him to see. Thinking up an excuse?
“I don’t know when I’ll be leaving work. I have a lot to do today.”
Definitely an excuse. “I can wait. My schedule is flexible.” To put it mildly.
She didn’t seem to catch his droll tone. “Let’s meet for lunch instead.” Her cheeks went pink. “At a hotel, maybe?”
Great. She wanted to fit him in during lunch ‑‑ a quick nooner, so none of her co-workers would have to see her with him. Just another appointment: Tuesday, manicure. Wednesday, fuck Jake at the Hilton. “Sure, lunch would be great. And when you’re off of work, we can go to dinner, too.”
No sign of surprise; she didn’t even blink. Like a lot of prosecutors he’d seen, she had a great poker face. “You don’t have to take me to dinner, Jake.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
She tilted her head a little to one side. “You probably shouldn’t spend the money.”
Nice of her to remind him. “So we’ll go someplace I can afford.” He’d make damn sure he got some cash today. Enough to take her to a decent restaurant. He might never earn as much as she did, but he sure as hell could take her out to a good meal now and then. “What time is good for you?”
She waited a moment, as if she was considering it. “I might have a meeting. After work, I mean. After hours.”
Uh-huh. She had a good poker face, but prison had taught him how to spot a lie a mile off. “I can wait. If you’re running late, we can go to dinner straight from your office.”
Her eyes went wide in horror. “Oh, I…I’ll have to change clothes anyway, so I might as well meet you here.”
“So I’m good enough to fuck, but not to be seen with in public?” Damn. He hadn’t meant to say it.
Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “No, of course that’s not it. It’s just more convenient if we meet…someplace else.”
Anywhere else. Her tone was apologetic, but she was clearly embarrassed about having her co-workers at the D.A.’s office see him. He couldn’t really blame her…but he did. Hell, at least she’d agreed to see him for dinner. It was a start. “How about if I call you this afternoon, and we can decide on a time then?” Or I’ll stop by your office and we’ll decide in person. It didn’t matter what she said, he’d be showing up at her office. He called the shots, and the sooner she realized it, the better.
She looked so relieved, he almost laughed. “That’s fine, Jake. Call me at the office this afternoon. Or…earlier, if you want to meet somewhere for lunch.”
He brushed the backs of his fingers against her blushing cheek. “Afraid you won’t be able to wait until dinner?”
She pressed her chin against his hand. “Maybe. And you have only yourself to blame.” She gave a little sigh, then stepped back.
Before she could turn away, he hauled her closer. One thing about being in prison ‑‑ he’d spent so much time pumping iron that he could lift Kate up against him with one arm. She gasped and rested a hand on his chest. Those parted lips were too much temptation to resist.
He kissed her softly, starting slowly. Cautiously. She met him halfway, opening a little in invitation. And he took it, tasting her with gentle strokes of his tongue, toying with the edges of her teeth.
She sighed into his mouth, then pulled away. Her forehead dropped to his chest. “I have to get to work.”
Time to show her who was boss. He gripped her ass with both hands. “Not just yet.”
She pushed against his chest ‑‑ a token push, a feeble show of resistance. “I can’t, Jake.”
His grin felt like it would split his face. “I’m not hearing a no.”
Her lips turned down into a mulish frown. “No. Is that clear enough?”
Despite the pout, she’d pressed her lush, full breasts a little more against his chest. “No? I don’t hear that word.” She knew how to say “no” and mean it ‑‑ they’d agreed on a safe word just last night.
Her chin went up in a stubborn tilt. “You wouldn’t stop anyway. All you can think about is getting your rocks off.”
“And yours, sweet Kate.” He stroked up the backs of her legs, taking the hem of her skirt with him. She was wearing pantyhose ‑‑ nasty stuff that made it harder to get to her pussy, but he was up for the challenge. He tugged at her waistband until her panties came down in back, taking her nylons with them. Her skin was soft and warm. He stroked to the cleft of her ass and down, passing lightly over her asshole and back up again.
>
She bit her lip.
“Try to tell me you don’t want this.” His arm was long enough to reach between her legs. God, she was wet. No doubt about it, she liked it when he took charge and didn’t let her say no. He stroked the edges of her hole with one finger, teasing along the slick flesh, then inched his way forward to her clit. Her head fell to his shoulder as he rubbed gently, and her hips rocked against him, stroking his cock to full hardness.
When he backed off, she whimpered. He brought his hand to his lips, licking along the side of his forefinger. The scent of her cunt made his groin throb.
A sheen of sweat beaded on her upper lip. “Five minutes,” she whispered.
Thank God. But for show, he glared down into her face. “Don’t put conditions on me.”
Her eyes glittered with excitement ‑‑ or was it defiance? “Yes, Jake,” she said meekly.
Master. He wanted her to call him Master. He didn’t think much of the Bondage scene ‑‑ too fruity, with all those silly costumes ‑‑ but he wanted Kate to call him Master. To willingly admit that she was his…to beg him to dominate her…to cling to his arm in public…to smile up at him for the whole world to see. But he’d have to break her in gently. If he pushed her too far, too fast, she’d run. This was all new to her.
He stroked her hair with one hand, taking care not to mess it up. “I think I’ll leave it in the bun. For now.”
She nodded. “I’d hate to waste time putting it back up.”
And no sense in wasting time now. He turned her until she faced the table and pushed her hips gently until she took the two steps that brought her belly to the edge. “Bend over.”
Her lips parted as she gasped, but she obeyed him, bending at the waist and bracing herself on the table with both arms. He pulled up the back of her skirt, then eased her pantyhose and panties down her legs. Without a word, she stepped out of her pumps, lifting each foot in turn as he peeled her clothes off.
Still a Thief Page 1
