Thief of Hearts Boxed Set

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Thief of Hearts Boxed Set Page 2

by Doreen DeSalvo


  “You want to know if I was raped in prison, don’t you?”

  Her eyes went wide. “No. I don’t want to make you relive bad memories.”

  “I wasn’t.” His jaw clenched. Felt like it would break if he opened his mouth, but he managed. “I was big and bad. No one messed with me after the first guy who tried ended up with a couple of busted ribs.”

  “But you were released early for good behavior.” She sounded shocked, like she’d have thrown away the key to his cell.

  “He’d have ended up with more than a broken jaw if he’d ratted on me. No one likes a snitch.”

  Her throat moved, like she’d swallowed. Was he bothering her with this frank talk? He hoped so. Maybe she’d think twice before she sent another man to prison. “You’re not going to ask, are you?”

  “Ask what?” She lifted her cup to her mouth, all innocence.

  He dropped his voice so the couple sitting two tables away wouldn’t hear. “If I raped anyone myself.”

  Her hand shook, but she managed to lower the cup to the saucer without spilling a drop. “No, I wasn’t going to ask. I wasn’t even thinking of asking.”

  She had a good poker face—most lawyers did. “I didn’t,” he said. “I haven’t had sex in three years.”

  “I wasn’t curious.”

  Most lawyers were good liars, too. But time in prison had taught him how to read a face, and he saw the curiosity in her eyes. “Do you know what it’s like, going for that long without sex?”

  Had she nodded? No, he must have imagined it. A beautiful, elegant woman like her could have any man she wanted. A rich man. An educated man. A better man than a thug like him.

  “Being without a woman…it’s the worst thing about being in prison.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  Sure she was. And he’d tell her, because she was the closest thing to heaven he’d seen since getting out…and because she wasn’t going to let him get any closer to her than he was right now. He wanted to punish her for that. Punish her for making him hard, horny, and desperate to get between her legs.

  Hell, he’d punish her just for the fun of it. Just to prove what an undeserving bastard he was.

  “You probably think it makes a man selfish. That he’ll jump the first woman he sees. That he won’t want anything but a quick fuck.”

  She gasped a little, like she’d never heard the word.

  “Well, you’d be wrong.” He leaned forward, until he swore he could smell her perfume. “It makes him fantasize about just looking at her. Looking at her spread out on a bed, naked. Open. Waiting for him. It makes him think of a thousand different ways to take her.”

  A thousand kinky ways. Ways you’ve never imagined in your safe little lawyer world. His throat got tight. He had to take another sip of coffee before he could go on. “It makes him want a whole night of fucking. Over and over…until you beg me to stop.”

  She licked her lips. “I’m not interested.”

  She was interested, all right. So interested she was repeating herself. And she hadn’t noticed that he’d replaced his fantasy woman with her.

  “After the first year, you almost forget about the sex. You start fantasizing about touching her, just touching her. Touching her in little ways.” He moved his hand across the table until it was next to hers. With his forefinger, he gently stroked the side of her wrist. “Little ways…like this.”

  The tip of her tongue peeked out for a brief flash as she wet her lips. “Stop.” Her hand moved just an inch, but enough to break contact.

  His own hand followed, until his forefinger barely rested against her arm. “If you let me touch you…”

  If you let me touch you, I’ll have you under me in ten seconds.

  Not a good thought to share with her. “I’d give anything to kiss you.” He kept his voice low. “I’d die happy if you gave me one kiss. Let me taste your mouth just one time.”

  “You wouldn’t be happy with just a kiss, and you know it.”

  She sounded angry—angry and a little breathless. Did he actually have a chance with her? “I’d stop whenever you wanted.” He’d try to, at least. “I’d start with your hair. I’ll take it down from that bun…”

  “It’s a French twist.”

  “Whatever. First I’ll kiss your bare, beautiful neck, with little open-mouthed kisses.”

  And I’ll bite your neck hard enough to brand you. To remind you that I was in your bed. In your body.

  “I’ll unbutton that shirt so slowly, you’ll wonder if I’m going to take all night.” Sounded good, but in reality he’d rip the damned thing off her. Her breasts would be beautiful, he just knew it.

  “I’ll spread your shirt open real slow, and I’ll look at you in your bra for a long, long, time.” He swallowed to get the hoarseness out of his voice. “I wonder what yours looks like. One of those stretchy sports bras? Or something lacy?”

  She shook her head once, but didn’t speak. Her lips had parted, like she was breathing hard.

  “Something lacy, I bet. I’ll touch you through your bra. Kiss you through it.” He dropped his voice so no one could hear. “Maybe I’ll bite you a little. Do you know how close pleasure can be to pain?”

  He saw her throat move, but she didn’t say anything. Was he exciting her?

  “Yeah, I’d bite your nipples just a little, until you were squirming. Until you begged me to get to your skin. Then I’d take your bra off…and bite you some more.”

  “Stop this.” Her voice came out hoarse. Almost a moan.

  “Why? A little fantasy never hurt anyone.” He’d had years to do nothing else. Nothing but fantasize about all the ways he wanted to take a woman. And now, with only a week on the outside, he was rock hard over a woman who’d never let him touch her.

  “Because…” She glanced down at the table, took a deep breath, and looked at him again, her chin raised belligerently. “It’s not appropriate.”

  Appropriate? God, she was uptight. “I don’t give a damn.”

  He slid out of the booth and sat down next to her, his torso turned to face her. She looked shocked, eyes wide, lips parted. He leaned close, closer, and she leaned farther away, until her back was against the wall.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Her voice shook. Was she frightened?

  Good.

  “I’m gonna kiss you.”

  Her hands came up to press against his chest, and she gasped. “Don’t.”

  Her resistance made him want her even more. He’d never forced a woman before, not even into a kiss. But now, after prison, he was one sick bastard. Those slender hands pushing him away made him want to crush her against him…to crush her resistance, plunder her mouth, grab her breast…to show her how much he wanted her. To force her to want him. Right here in this tacky diner.

  One arm went around her, pulling her closer, his mouth lowering—

  “No, Jake. Don’t. We’re in public.”

  He stopped…and smiled down into her face. “So if we weren’t in public, you’d let me?”

  Her cheeks went pale. She looked even more frightened now. Because she wanted him? No, he couldn’t be that lucky.

  A clink on the table made him turn. The damned waitress, a pot in each hand, giving them refills. Her face was bland, bored—no doubt she’d seen worse things than an ex-con trying to force himself on a classy attorney.

  “You folks need anything else?” the waitress asked.

  “No,” he snapped.

  “May we have our check, please?” Kate asked.

  “Sure.” The waitress pulled a tab out of her pocket and laid it face down on the table, then walked away.

  Kate pushed against him, hard. Damn, now she just looked pissed. Embarrassed, maybe. He backed off, and she straightened up. With a quick motion, she grabbed the bill with one hand and reached for her purse with the other.

  No way was he letting her pay for his cup of coffee. He reached for the check, but she pulled it back. “Let me get t
his,” he insisted.

  “Don’t be silly. You don’t even have a job yet.”

  Nice of her to remind him. The hell of it was, even this five-dollar tab would hurt him. “Thanks.”

  She stopped foraging in her purse and looked up, giving him an awkward little smile. As if she knew he hated being broke. “You can pay me back later.” Then she laid a few bills on the table and clutched her purse close to her chest, holding it between them like a shield.

  Damn. He’d scared her.

  This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. He’d see her again. But for now, he’d let her go. She looked too frightened to give him any more tonight.

  He slid back out of the booth and stood up. Kate slipped out behind him. Without a word, she walked toward the door.

  He had to hurry to keep up with her. She raced outside without holding the door for him, like the hounds of hell were after her. One of them, at least.

  When he caught up with her in the parking lot, she was trying to get the door of her car unlocked. Her hand was shaking so bad, she couldn’t get the key in.

  He laid a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked around to face him. “Leave me alone.”

  She’d almost shouted the words. She was panting, breathing hard from rushing out of the restaurant. A perverted image flashed into his brain—Kate naked, flat on her back, panting just like this while he fucked her hard and deep. He took a step closer. Her hot breath hit his neck, and he shuddered from the contact. Damn, her breath smelled sweet. He couldn’t stop himself from touching her. Reaching out, he took her elbows in his hands. “Take it easy.”

  The lot was deserted, and she’d parked far away from the nearest light. Even so, he could see the dampness in her eyes as she stared up at him, her lips moving a little with each breath. What would she do if he kissed her? Slap him, probably. Or knee him in the groin. His cock shriveled a little at the thought. “What are you afraid of?”

  “You.”

  At least she was honest. He stroked up and down her upper arms, trying to reassure her. “I won’t hurt you, Kate. I’ve never hurt a woman in my life.”

  She gave a half-choked laugh. “Oh, good. You have standards.”

  Damn her. Judging him after all he’d been through. “Yeah, I do.”

  He eased closer, just a fraction of an inch. She didn’t flinch, didn’t back up, didn’t reach out to push him away. But her eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights. God, she acted like she’d never been this close to a man. Like she wanted him, but didn’t know what to do about it.

  He did. He slid his hands to her waist, testing. No resistance—she didn’t move an inch. He shouldn’t kiss her. He really shouldn’t. But when he moved closer, she didn’t back away. Another inch. Another. She closed her eyes in consent.

  Unbelievable.

  He kissed her gently, just barely stroking his lips over hers. He’d never felt lips so soft. A groan came from his throat, rumbled against his lips. Her hands went to his shoulders, just resting there, not shoving him back…but not pulling him closer, either. Shy little Kate. He wouldn’t grind his hard-on against her, no matter how badly he wanted to.

  She gasped against his mouth, and his tongue touched hers for a second. Then again, and again, just light little touches…and then they were delving into each other with raw hunger. He tried to stay gentle, not crowd her, not squeeze her too hard. He didn’t want to scare her away.

  Breathe. Breathe. He dragged his lips from hers and buried them in her hair, panting.

  She nuzzled at the front of his neck. Afraid to look at him? To see the man who’d kissed her?

  Hell, she didn’t have to look at him. All he cared about was getting between her legs.

  He moved slowly, gently sliding his hands up and down her back. Slow easy stroking, nothing too shocking. Nothing to startle her into running away. Then he slid a hand under the front of her jacket and cupped one full, soft breast.

  She gasped but didn’t resist. No, she shifted a little, pressed her soft flesh more firmly into his hand. Even through the crisp fabric of her shirt and whatever she had on underneath it, he felt her nipple harden. He scraped against the hidden pebble with his fingertips.

  Kate squirmed against him, rubbing one hip against his jeans. His cock felt hard enough to cut diamonds. It wouldn’t take much to make him explode. But not like this. First he’d show her what a generous lover he was. Convince her to let him get her alone. The things he wanted from her required privacy, not a quick grope in a parking lot.

  But groping would do for starters.

  He kept one hand busy on her breast and reached low with the other, trailing his fingers from her knee up to her hip, catching the hem of her skirt and pulling it up her thigh. He felt her mouth open against his neck, her breath hot and damp. She didn’t say a word, didn’t make any protest. Damn, the skin on her thigh was softer than he’d imagined. When he slid his fingers between her legs, she clutched at his denim jacket.

  Go slow. Don’t scare her off. He teased her with soft petting motions, with closed fingers and easy, gentle strokes, not probing too deep or too fast. Patience. He ground his teeth and waited…waited until her hips were rocking, until her thighs spread open, until she’d moved even closer to push his hand further between her legs. She was pulling him back and forth with rhythmic little thrusts, clutching him so tight he had to brace himself against the car to stay upright. Then he pushed the crotch of her underpants to one side and touched her naked flesh.

  “Oh!”

  She sounded surprised, but didn’t say more. Hell, his heart beat so loud, he couldn’t have heard her anyway. Her pussy was slick with arousal, hot with need, and he explored every ridge, every fold, every crevice. If she gave him nothing more than this, he’d memorize what little he got. He’d remember the feel of her wet skin on his fingers, the hot press of her breasts against his chest, the way her thighs felt clamping down on his hand, trapping his fingers against her sex.

  He let his greedy fingers roam, stroking a slow path back and forth, circling her clit for a second before moving away. Teasing her good. Long slow strokes, some deeper than others, just a bare touch on her clit this time, a long, slow circle the next, until his fingers were dripping and she was gasping against his neck.

  Then he finally thrust a finger deep inside her. Tiny female muscles clenched around his invading flesh. Christ, what he wouldn’t give to fuck her right here, to feel this heat and wetness swallowing his cock. Maybe if he got her hot enough, she’d want to screw him in the car.

  He brushed her clit with his thumb, and she gave a tiny cry and shook with the force of a climax. Damn, she’d gone off fast. He kept his arms tight around her as she shuddered, her mouth pressed tight against his chest but not hard enough to muffle her little gasping moans. He hid his smile in her hair.

  Even after her body stilled, she stayed close. How tiny she was—the top of her head didn’t even come to his chin. Satisfaction had him grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t resist tipping her back in his arms to get a good look at her face.

  Even in the dim light of a far-off streetlight, he could see her cheeks were bright red. Embarrassed because she’d just climaxed in a parking lot? Or because an ex-con was the man who got her off? Maybe because he still had a finger buried inside her. Slowly, with a pang of regret, he moved his hand from between her legs to the safe territory of her hip. The night air felt cool on his wet fingers.

  “I…” She said nothing else, just stood there looking miserable.

  The longer he let her think about this, the worse his chances got. What the hell could he say?

  “Take me home with you.” He almost winced. Not the most elegant pickup line he’d ever come up with. “You won’t be sorry.” Christ, that wasn’t much better.

  Her eyelids dropped closed. Then she nodded.

  Yes. She’d said yes. He felt like shouting, but managed to keep himself to a smile. Probably more of a leer.

  A classy woman like her ha
d no business with a man like him. And he’d prove it to her. But first she’d give him everything.

  Every nasty fantasy he’d ever had.

  Chapter Three

  They rode in silence. Just as well, because she didn’t know what to say. She’d never done anything this impulsive in her life. She’d always been a planner, a worrier. That was the only way she’d escaped the old neighborhood. If she’d been impulsive, she’d have ended up pregnant. Or worse.

  And that tendency to worry had carried over into adulthood, made her uptight and fretful. Tonight she wanted to let go. Just for one night.

  Maybe that explained it. Or maybe she’d responded to his need, his yearning. She’d been with other men, but she’d never felt needed before.

  Jake made her feel like she was the only thing he needed in this world. And she hadn’t been with a man for a long time…probably longer than he’d been without a woman. Maybe she needed this as much as he did. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to punish herself with second thoughts. Not tonight.

  For once she wanted to live for the moment, to give in to her wildest impulses. She was an adult now, not a teenager. She could handle it.

  Sure she could.

  She stole a sideways glance at his stony profile. One elbow rested on the side of the car door, his fingers lightly curled at his lips. He turned toward her, met her gaze, and took a deep, inhaling breath.

  Oh, God. He was smelling his fingers. Smelling her on his fingers.

  Her eyes snapped forward. Pretend you didn’t notice. The car was dark; maybe he couldn’t see her blush.

  Pressure on her knee—his hand. No reason to show him how nervous she was. She gave him a quick, prim little smile, friendly but reserved; the kind that settled a jury.

  He chuckled and toyed with the hem of her skirt, edging it a little higher. His fingers made little circles on the top of her thigh, tickling. What a tease.

  By the time they reached the garage, she was all but squirming on the seat. She pulled into her parking space and turned off the car, then reached for her purse—all without meeting his eyes.

 

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