Still a Thief

by Doreen DeSalvo

  The garage was silent except for the steady hum of the air filtration system and the sharp click of her heels on the concrete floor as she walked briskly to the elevator. She pushed the call button, and the doors opened immediately.

  The elevator slowly eased upward, only to stop on the very next floor. The man who stepped on was familiar ‑‑ tall and lanky, with full lips and sandy blonde hair. “Hello, Katherine. How are you?”

  “Good morning, Arthur.” She smiled despite a sudden rush of nervousness. What if he could smell the sex on her? Her heart tripped at the thought, and not entirely in fear.

  If Jake had her alone in an elevator, he’d have a hand under her skirt. Was Arthur thinking the same thing? He seemed like the domineering type ‑‑ a talented prosecutor, about ten years older than her and far above her on the career ladder. Every time she saw him in court, his handling of witnesses impressed her. Maybe he liked to lose control in the bedroom. Was it her imagination, or was he standing a little closer than necessary?

  She glanced up and met his gaze. Startled, she looked away quickly, but not before catching a flash of speculation in his deep gray eyes. If the man was a mind reader, she’d be in big trouble. All she could think about was sex.

  She’d kept a lid on her fantasies in the past, never allowing herself to think of Arthur or any of her co-workers this way. But now, alone with him in such a small space, her privates warm and swollen from sex, she could think of nothing else. If he pulled her close and kissed her roughly, like Jake had in her kitchen, she’d give him anything he wanted. He wouldn’t even have to ask. All he’d have to do was push her against the wall, grind his mouth on hers…shove his hand under her skirt to yank down her nylons. Without panties, the job would be that much easier.

  Her heart beat faster, picturing the scene.

  They could stop the elevator between floors ‑‑ the alarm wouldn’t go off for some reason ‑‑ and Arthur would strip her nylons down and bend her over. He’d leave her shoes on ‑‑ not like Jake ‑‑ and spread her legs as far as the hose allowed. He wouldn’t say a word; he’d make demands with his hands, with the brute force of his body. She’d lean against the wall, biting her lips to silence her moans, enjoying the pain she inflicted on herself while he pounded into her from behind.

  Or he’d push her to her hands and knees, covering her like a stallion with a mare in heat. God, she was in heat. She’d had a mind blowing orgasm less than an hour ago, and her pussy was already throbbing for more.

  A movement to her side caught her attention ‑‑ Arthur shifting his briefcase to his other hand. His hands were nice, with well-manicured fingernails. Such long fingers… She felt a rush of moisture between her thighs, making her pantyhose sticky and wet. Jake had her primed, until every situation brought out a Pavlovian sexual response.

  Jake. What would he do if he caught her messing around with Arthur? Maybe he’d force her to fuck them both…not that he’d have to use much force. Good lord, what kind of woman was she turning into?

  Ding.

  Thank goodness. Without a glance at the suddenly sexy Arthur, she mumbled, “See you later” and fled.

  Spacious and open, the office of the District Attorney was as noisy as any newsroom. Phones rang incessantly, people chattered over cubicle walls, and photocopiers whirred, clicked and clanged as huge volumes of paper were copied, sorted, and stapled automatically. The din barely registered as she made a beeline for her office. Her co-workers were a blur, but she managed to give each of them a vague wave as she passed.

  Her office was small, barely large enough to hold a battered wooden desk, two filing cabinets, and a couple of client chairs, but today it felt like a sanctuary. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, heart pounding. A bead of moisture slowly trickled down between her breasts. She squeezed her thighs tight, but the soreness in her muscles only served to remind her of the reason she felt so off balance ‑‑ Jake Monroe.

  Jake would have punished her for looking at another man like that. He’d threatened that she wouldn’t like the punishment if she put on panties…little did he know, there was no punishment he could mete out that she wouldn’t enjoy. When he’d given her those two little slaps on her bare behind, she’d almost begged him to spank her hard and long. Next time, she would. Her throat went dry, and she sank into the chair behind her desk.

  Jake had her totally confused. She didn’t like the way he pushed her around, the way he threatened her, the way he made her late for work…

  She didn’t like it, but she loved it.

  It made no sense. She’d always dated decorous men. The men like Jake had been harmless fantasies, but she knew better than to take one of them to bed. Somehow Jake Monroe had slipped under her natural radar, and now she was in the thick of trouble. Jake was an unknown quantity. A man she couldn’t control.

  He’d done things to her no man had ever tried before. Spanking, bondage, pain, anal sex…oh, she’d never imagined how erogenous anal sex could be. And Jake enjoyed every part of it. The way he’d bent her over the table and licked her butt so eagerly, as though he was starving for her…just the thought made her shiver. And he’d given her the freedom of pretending to be forced into it.

  She bit back a moan and froze. Unconsciously, her fingers had been toying with one of her own nipples through the fabric of her blouse.

  In this state, she’d never be able to focus during the depositions. She needed some relief, pronto. Otherwise she’d picture herself having sex with every other man in the room, until her words were incomprehensible and the back of her skirt had a wet spot. But could she really masturbate at work?

  No, she’d have to ignore it. Only three hours until lunch. She’d meet Jake at the nearest hotel and let him scratch this insatiable itch. Certainly she could wait three hours. After all, before Jake had come along she’d been waiting over three years.

  She squirmed in the chair, and the pull of stretched pantyhose against her overly sensitive clitoris made her gasp aloud. Her nylons were so wet, she could feel the dampness across her entire crotch.

  That decided it. Satisfaction took precedence over decorum. Besides, no one would know.

  Or would they? Her office door locked, but at this time of day someone could stop by. There’d be a flurry of gossip if her door was found locked the minute she got to work. Last year, they’d found a paralegal intern doing coke that way. Even if they didn’t suspect her of doing drugs, a locked door would raise all kinds of suspicions. The building would be buzzing within minutes.

  But where could she…

  The ladies’ room. She could spare five minutes, get some relief, then come back with a cooler head to review files before the deposition. No one would consider it odd; lots of people freshened up before a meeting. She stowed her purse in her desk drawer and locked it, then hightailed it down the hall to the restroom. Everyone would think she’d suddenly gotten her period, the way she was rushing through the corridor, but she didn’t care.

  The room was empty, thank goodness, with every stall door open in silent proof. She went to the farthest one, locked the swinging metal door, and ripped a handful of tissue from the dispenser.

  Heart pounding, she lifted her skirt and slid trembling fingers down the front of her hose. The first brush of tissue against her aching clit felt like sandpaper. Breathless, she slid her legs farther apart and leaned against the cold metal wall at her back, rubbing the wet cream from her pussy over her clit in tight little circles.

  If Jake knew what she’d been thinking about Arthur, what would he do? He’d fuck her, definitely, but more than that. Her breath came faster, her fingers sped up. Jake would spank her, hard stinging slaps. He’d turn her over his knee like a naughty schoolgirl. Maybe he’d make Arthur watch.

  Oh, that was kinky. What else would he do? He’d let Arthur toy with her, tease her, fuck her. No, not fuck her. Her pussy belonged to Jake alone.

  He’d take them both to a hotel ‑‑ her mind obediently man
ufactured the setting as heat built in her clit, her fingers stoking the fire with rapid friction. Yes, a hotel. She pictured herself on the bed, naked, legs spread wide and tied to bedposts that her imagination readily supplied. Arthur would be magnificent naked, tall and slender, with a thin, long cock that didn’t quite measure up to Jake’s.

  Suck him, Jake would order.

  She’d open her mouth like a little bird, eager for a cock, any cock, in any orifice. Jake would watch, dark eyes gleaming, his cock hard and rigid against his belly. Even with Arthur thrusting into her mouth, she couldn’t take her eyes off of the kinky man who’d set up the scenario. This was all for Jake.

  She’d suck Arthur hard ‑‑ Bite him ‑‑ oh yes, maybe Arthur liked pain, too. Her teeth would draw short moans from his throat. Jake would scratch between her legs, running his fingernails over her sensitive flesh, tormenting her poor throbbing clit.

  Yes, hurt me. Her own fingers stopped and flicked against the hard nub. The rush of pain made her nipples tingle, and she had to bite her lip to stop a moan.

  Then Jake would climb on top of her and fuck her, filling her cunt as Arthur filled her mouth, and she’d lose control, moaning and gasping as Jake thrust into her, struggling to breathe with her mouth all but plugged.

  He’d push Arthur away then, wanting Kate all to himself, claiming her with every hard stroke of his cock. Arthur would obey with a surly frown, a dominant man subdued by an even stronger man. He’d kneel on the bed, rubbing his own cock as he watched Jake fuck her. My turn next. Her heart skipped a beat. As soon as Jake was done, Arthur would fuck her, too.

  And she’d be eager for him. She’d be theirs all night long ‑‑ a purely sexual being, open to both of them, letting them take her in every way possible, making only a token protest. Or no protest at all. They’d leave her exhausted, aching, marked by their teeth, filled with their cum and wishing she had strength for more. The skin on her belly and thighs would be abraded from their whiskers, red from their slapping hands.

  But now, to punish her in advance, Jake would bite at her breasts. She thrust them forward, imagining his teeth nipping at her, leaving tiny bruises on her pale flesh.

  What next? He knew Arthur wanted her, but it would be at Jake's command.

  He’d order Arthur closer… Get over here. Then what? Lay down.

  As Arthur laid on his back, Jake would pull Kate up ‑‑ the ties vanished ‑‑ turn her onto her hands and knees, position her face over Arthur’s cock. He slathered cool lubricant on her behind while Arthur’s cock waggled before her face. She licked her lips, waiting, knowing better than to do anything without Jake’s order.

  He pushed a finger into her asshole, spearing her with fire. Now suck him, baby. Suck him while I fuck you in the ass.

  Before she could finish the fantasy, her fingers brought her to an abrupt climax, legs shaking with the effort to keep her upright. Her body jerked in short staccato tremors, a little earthquake of an orgasm that rippled through her in easy waves of releasing tension.

  She whimpered and slowed her fingers, bringing herself down gently. Her wrist cramped a little in protest, and she flexed her hand back and forth to stretch the tight muscles. Too much exercise. She usually masturbated with a vibrator. Not in the office, though. The noise would be a dead giveaway. She grinned, then sobered. What had come over her?

  The tissue had all but disintegrated into a soggy mess. She tossed the wad into the toilet, then grabbed more, dabbing her damp forehead first, then wiping the fluid from between her thighs. The crotch of her pantyhose was sodden with moisture. She pulled them to her knees and pressed the thin nylon between two pads of tissue, drying it as much as possible.

  She pulled the hose up, straightened her skirt, and left the privacy of the stall to wash her hands.

  Thank goodness no one had come in. She’d probably been gasping and panting loud enough to be heard across the room.

  A glance in the mirror showed only a few wispy little strands of hair out of place. She brushed them back, studying her face carefully. Her makeup hadn’t smudged, though her lipstick was a little thin. She could fix that in her office quickly enough. But her eyes were vaguely haunted, as though a stranger looked back at her.

  A stranger who wanted to suck a co-worker’s dick while another man fucked her in the ass.

  Her cheeks reddened. Where had that fantasy come from? She’d been independent from the age of fourteen, when she’d found an eviction notice and realized her grandmother was too poor to support the two of them on Social Security, even though she tried her best. Kate had taken a job at Taco Magnifico the very next day, gotten straight A’s, and worked her way through law school.

  She was a self made, liberated woman. Women like her didn’t want men to abuse them sexually.

  But it didn’t make her feel abused. It made her feel…complete. Alive. As though having Jake command her sexually was a secret ingredient to happiness that she’d been missing all her life.

  But if he thought she was going to let him boss her around outside the bedroom, he had another thing coming. Her career was a lot more important than hot sex.

  Even if the hot sex was the most fulfilling thing she’d ever known.

  Chapter Three

  Jake turned up the collar of his denim jacket and hurriedly shoved his hands back in his pockets. Whoever said the coldest winter was a summer in San Francisco had it right. Even here at the Unemployment Office, miles away from the water that kept the city cool, the wind was like a breath of ice.

  He put his back to the wind, leaning one hip on the brick wall that fenced in the parking lot. The guy he’d turned to face, a twenty-something Hispanic man in jeans and a gray down jacket, gave him a knowing grin and flapped his elbows like a duck, hands deep in his pockets. “You need a heavier coat.”

  “Yeah. I need money first.”

  The man sidled closer. “I’m Juan.”

  “Jake.” With the weather this cold, neither of them reached out a bare hand to shake.

  “You know anything about cars, Jake?”

  Was this some kind of job offer, or just casual chat? “A little.” He could fake what he didn’t know, or pick it up quickly enough.

  “My cousin, he has a garage. He’s always looking for cars to use…for repairs, you know?”

  A chop shop. It had to be, considering the shifty look in Juan’s eyes.

  “You bring in cars, he pays top dollar.”

  Did he have ex-con tattooed on his forehead? Barely a week out of San Quentin, and he was already being pegged as a criminal. “If he’s looking for a mechanic, I know my way around an engine pretty good. But I’m not up for anything…” He didn’t want to insult the guy. “Uh, under the table.”

  Juan shrugged and turned away. “Suit yourself.”

  Oh well. Almost two hours standing here, and his only offer had been one to boost cars. No way was he going to get enough money to take Kate out to a nice place for dinner. He twisted his wrist to glance at his watch. Yep, five to ten.

  When he looked up, the group had thinned to six. Juan was gone, along with a few others. An older man with a weather-beaten face, eyes invisible under a Giants baseball cap, spit onto the sidewalk. “No work today. Before eight, that’s when the foremen come by.”

  Before eight, he’d been screwing Kate on her kitchen table. Who’d have believed he’d find someone like her so quickly after getting out? Not that he was going to tie himself down to one woman. Not after three long years of celibacy.

  He nodded absently at his new neighbor. “Yeah, looks like we’re out of luck today.”

  The man checked his watch. “Another thirty minutes. Then a spot of brandy will warm me up real quick.”

  A low whistle came from a guy on his other side. “I’ll take a spot of that instead.”

  Jake swiveled his head. A young woman walked toward them, dressed like it was eighty degrees instead of the mid-fifties. Short skirt, bare legs, heels like stilts. Her hair was dyed a vi
vid, unnatural shade of red, her eyes covered with equally bright shadow.

  Her neon yellow blazer was so tight, her breasts were pushed up and out above the buttons. She put a little extra bounce in her walk, encouraging the mounds to jiggle. With such thin legs and a non-existent ass, those cantaloupes must be fakes. Still, she knew how to wrap them for maximum effect.

  “Yum.”

  He wasn’t sure who said it. Hell, it might have been him.

  She gave them a little grin as she passed, encouraging the whistles but knowing damned well none of them had a chance at getting under her tight little black skirt. When she got to Jake, she raised a flirtatious eyebrow and slowed her pace a bit.

  Kate would fill out a blazer like that, and her breasts were all natural. He’d give anything to see her strut down the street like this little tart, putting on a show for a bunch of rowdy lowlifes. He’d watch, knowing that of all the men she teased, he was the only one who’d get to fuck her.

  Yeah, he’d like to put Kate on display. Maybe tonight, if she was willing…

  What the hell? He blinked. A delicious tramp had just given him the eye, and all he could think about was how Kate would look in her slutty clothes. He should be chasing after the skirt in front of him, not daydreaming about Kate.

  She was too far gone now, at least thirty feet away. Damn. Another opportunity lost.

  A black flatbed Ford pulled up to the curb, engine idling. The guy behind the wheel wore a Giant’s cap and a flannel shirt. He pointed out the open passenger window at the other baseball fan. “Four hours of hammering two-by-fours. Ten bucks an hour. You up for it?”

  The man in the cap was already swinging into the passenger seat.

  What could he say to get the job? Nothing came to mind. He didn’t know how to impress anyone, and this wasn’t the typical job interview. Might as well go back to his room and make plans for lunch with Kate. He’d find a way to stretch his cash ‑‑

  “Hey, daydreamer. You want forty bucks or not?”